


Ride Off

by AwesomeEyeroll



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: 1980's, AU, F/M, polo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2019-10-24 17:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17708453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwesomeEyeroll/pseuds/AwesomeEyeroll
Summary: Jamie is living the jet set life of an international high goal polo player when he meets Claire.





	1. Gold Cup

Jamie walked the pony lines checking bandages and tack, soothing equine nerves and generally keeping himself out of the way of his Uncle Dougal’s wrath. 

Jamie had been playing polo since he was old enough to ride a pony and hold a stick and at 25 had a solid 8 goal handicap and had turned professional the year before after leaving the army. Playing for the mighty Leoch, Jamie had had a magnificent season. His uncle, Collum, once a mighty 9 goal player himself, but now a non-playing patron, had trusted Jamie’s judgement both when it came to horses and men and as a result Leoch had stormed through their side of the draw in the Gold Cup. Collum’s decision to replace his brother, Dougal as Captain had not been well received by all, however and it was for this reason that Jamie chose to avoid the hospitality tent to check the ponies. He hoped Dougal wouldn’t get too drunk, their substitute rider Willie was a good player with great potential but Jamie was realistic enough to know that they would need the 8 goal might of a fully on form Dougal if they were to defeat Helwater, all solid players. Jamie also privately admitted that Helwater was one of the few other teams he would consider a move to. Rumour had it Lord Dunsany was growing tired of his current professional, rumours of over familiarity with both his eldest daughter and his wife, and much as Jamie enjoyed playing for Leoch, it would be good to be free of Dougal and his unpredictable moods and tendency to pre-match libations. He had chatted with Lord Dunsany more than once at receptions and unlike many playing patrons he not only pulled his weight on the team but was a damn good horseman. Too many high goal patrons wanted the glory but could barely ride a pony or hold a stick and expected their professionals to forsake their own games to set up plays that would let them soothe their own egos. Jamie knew how to politic but was too interested in his own game to play that role, even for the big money paid out to high goal pros.

With ten minutes until throw in, Jamie returned to the tent to martial the rest of the team. He was determined to lift the cup.

\---

“Polo. Bloody fucking polo” Claire muttered under her breath as she made her way across the club grounds towards the stands. Her best friend Geillis had recently met a polo player in a bar, spent a tawdry night with him (“I’ll tell you what, that laddie knows how to ride and no mistake. I could barely get out of bed for three days”) and since turned into something of a polo groupie. Having discovered that there was a fairly sizeable polo club only half an hour outside of London, Geillis had declared herself a fan and now, was determined to drag everyone else into it. 

“Why did you make me get out of bed for this, Claire?” Louise, who had also been dragged along complained as a large dog almost sent her flying in pursuit of a ball, followed in turn by three smallish children.   
“It wasn’t me, it was sodding Geillis. ‘It will be fun’, she said. ‘So glamorous’ she said. My bloody arse”

The two women approached the stands where a slim redhead was waving frantically at them. Climbing the stands with apologies for those they displaced on the way up, they plonked themselves down. Geillis sensing their reluctance and lack of enthusiasm, reached under the bench below them and pulled out a bag containing three made up bottles of vodka and orange. Swigging from her bottle and ignoring the murmurs of disapproval from the fans around them, Claire thought she could maybe get used to this.

Silenced was observed whilst they all cleared a good quarter of their bottles and then Geillis began filling them in.

“It’s the Gold Cup, one of the biggest tournaments in the calendar. Jaeger-Le Coultre are the sponsor. The two teams in the final are Leoch, which is largely made up of Scots, so I’ll be supporting them obviously. The other team is called Helwater. They’re a good team, but rumour has it the patron’s eldest daughter eats his pros for breakfast, hence the fact he’s looking for his second professional in as many seasons. Rumour also has it that Jamie Fraser, a red headed viking demi god who plays for Leoch currently, might join Helwater. Whether he will also be required to service Lady G is as yet unknown.” Geillis cackled and continued “That group of girlies down there, are the professional polo groupies. They come to every game and are largely interested with male flesh rather than horse. The Viking is playing so they are out in force today.”

 

Claire and Louise looked down the stands to where a large phalanx of young ladies sat. At present most of them seemed to be eyeing a blonde who was tapping a ball around near the Helwater pony lines, looking relaxed.

“That’s Lord John Grey. Much favoured by the ladies, alas has a very handsome boyfriend called Hector”

Claire had to admit, in the two months since Geillis had discovered polo she’d certainly learned a lot.

“So that’s the gossip. But have you got any idea what happens once they start playing?”  
Geillis laughed and waved her hand. “Oh aye, tis not that complicated. There are two teams, each with four players. Every time a goal is scored they change ends. The game is played four seven minutes sections called chukkas. Each player has a handicap, with -2 being the lowest and 10 being the highest. This is a high goal match so most of the players will have higher handicaps.”

“Oh” was Claire’s response. It sounded pretty complicated to her, but the sun was shining, the vodka was going down nicely and Geillis had ensured her the club house was open for top ups. She may as well make the most of it. If nothing else it was good to be out of London, away from the hospital and away from the omnipresent anxiety that was Frank.

\---

Jamie could feel the tension in his shoulders as they lined up waiting for the Umpire to throw in. Dougal was sober, but his mood and demeanour were not enhanced by it and he was in an exocet mood. He hoped that this wouldn’t translate to too many fouls and penalties. John Grey was a formidable forward and would convert them easily, Rupert was a good defensive back but the sun was low and it would impair his visibility in a snafu.

The whistle blew and the ball was thrown in and Jamie forgot all else but the game, plunging his pony into the fray, he whipped the ball down field towards the goal. With a click of his mallet he scored.

After that it was chaos. By the time it came to stomp the divots at half time the field was almost completely churned up. Rupert had a pony lame after a mistimed shot had hit it on its foreleg and Jamie had a nasty bruise forming on his rib after a particularly nasty ride off with Tom Christie, Helwater’s outgoing professional. Still they were 5-3 up and had largely dominated the play. Helwater were all excellent players but all specialised in attack which meant that too often they left their goal exposed which allowed Jamie and Dougal to push the advantage.

The second half was closer. The Helwater side learned their lesson and harried Jamie and Dougal making it difficult for them to score, however in the dying seconds a play set up my Dougal and converted by Jamie had Leoch running out the winners 8-6.

\---

Claire had to admit she was having more fun than she had expected. The decadent environment, the glamourous patrons, the Pimms. She had found the game rather exciting. Something about the contrast between the genteel surroundings and the sheer brute force of the game. She hadn’t expected it to be so fast nor so violent. She could also see Geillis’ point. These players were easy enough on the eye. Slightly tipsy from an excess of sunshine and booze, Geillis, Louise and Claire made their way towards the club house. It was only late afternoon and the girls had plans for the last bus back to London. 

The club house was thronging with people. From hardcore horse enthusiasts in tweed and corduroy, heavily made up matrons in hats and shoulder pads, Sloane rangers in their shirt-waisters and loafers and of course the players themselves. Those that had played earlier in the day were now in civvies, jeans and button down shirts, the players from the final were still in their breeches and shirts. They entered to a raucous applause and had drinks thrust into their hands almost immediately. They were a glamourous and good looking bunch, narrow hipped and wide shouldered. Claire could not help but stare at the redhead Geillis had pointed out to her earlier. Almost a head taller than his teammates, his navy blue shirt was stained almost black with sweat, his hair almost the colour of blood with it. He really was a bloody viking, thought Claire distractedly and she attempted to stare without being caught. No wonder he had his own fan club.

\---

The match had been tough and Jamie ached all over. What he really wanted to do was go back to the yard, check and turn out his horses, have a hot shower and fall into his bed. Instead he was rammed into the Cowdray club house drinking slightly warm champagne and being yelled at by drunks. It was all very good natured and these people were a good sort, but his ribs hurt like hell from Christie’s ride off and what he really wanted was a gallon of ice cold water. Glancing around, his height as always giving him an advantage, even over the truly ridiculous hats worn by some of the attendees, looking for a waiter or at least a sympathetic figure. Instead his eye was caught by someone he had never seen before. Polo tended to gather the same crowds and you saw the same people and he was certain that he would have remembered if he had seen her before. Looking to see who she was with she recognised the redheaded girl. He had met her in a bar in London and she had gone home with one of the french players visiting from Sotogrande. He had seen her a few times since at the matches but didn’t know her well enough to approach her and did not want to risk having her think it was her he was interested in. Whilst he was busy thinking up an excuse to talk to the curly haired brunette he was surprised when a the current object of his thoughts appeared beside him holding out a large pint glass of water. 

“You look like this is what you needed. We wouldn’t want the champ collapsing with dehydration now would we?”

All this was said with a glint in her eye and a small smile playing across her lips. Jamie smiled back at her accepting the glass.   
“Aye, tis just what the doctor ordered” He attempted a wink, but as always failed causing her to laugh out loud.

“Well, I suppose it is. I am a doctor after all.”

“Are ye now? Well doctor. Would you happen to have a name? Besides Doctor?”   
She laughed again. “Claire will do just fine. And what should I call you? Champ?” The last word with said with a combination of sarcasm and cheekiness and Jamie felt his pulse pick up slightly. “Weel, much as I like the idea of ye calling me ‘Champ’, we’ll go with Jamie since this is the first time we’ve met. We’ll maybe go for Champ after I win the Challenge Cup next month.”

Claire raised her eyebrows at him, and he felt his pulse pick up further. “Confident aren’t we?”

“Aye, well. If you want to win you have to believe you can.”

“I was talking about the idea that you’d see me again to have me call you anything”

She was looking at him now, straight in the eye and with challenge.

“Well Claire, I would never presume anything of lady such as yourself, but I thought maybe you’d do me the honour of showing me where best to get lunch next time I’m in London”

“Is that right? Well, I suppose I would hate for you to be wandering around London without a decent lunch to sustain you. You are an athlete after all. When do you think you may require this assistance?”

“Well, it just so happens that I will be in London tomorrow, picking up my new boots. Would that be suitable?”  
The outward formality of their words belied the looks they were giving each other. Anyone listening would hear nothing more than two people organising lunch. But the energy between them zinged back and forth in a way that made the hairs stand up on the back of Jamie’s neck. There was just something about her. She was beautiful, sure, but there were any number of beautiful women and whilst she had untamed air about her that set her apart from the coiffed and lacquered women around them, that wasn’t what made her stand out, what made him notice her. There was something in the way she made him feel when she looked at him, when she smiled at him. He couldn’t wait to get to know her.

\---

This could not possibly be a good idea, he probably went through groupies like he was Casanova, and yet she felt undeniably drawn to him. He made the pit of her stomach fizz and and her blood pound in her ears. When asked her for lunch there was no suggestion she would say no.

At that moment she caught sight of Geillis gesturing wildly at her.

“I have to go - we need to get back to the city. So tomorrow? How about I meet you at noon in Covent Garden?”

“Aye, that would be perfect. I'll see you then Claire”


	2. Chapter 2

Women had never been a particular problem for Jamie. At well over six foot, an army officer, and then professional polo player, he attracted women with very little effort. Whilst practically celibate by the standards of some of his peers who had women coming out of their ears, he wasn’t exactly a monk. And yet he found himself undeniably nervous about meeting up with this curly headed Sassenach doctor who had appeared as if my magic at the Gold Cup yesterday. He dressed with more care than he might normally, as one who lived in breeches and boots he wasn't given to vanity, but this wasn't the usual polo groupie or horsey girl who would be grateful just to be in his company. This was a woman who deserved to have an effort made for her. Settling on 501s and a white tee with his leather jacket he left the house. He toyed with taking the Porsche but something told him, flash cars were not necessarily the way to win her heart. That thought took him aback. Win her heart. Is that what he wanted to do? Whilst he certainly didn't consider himself a cad who bedded women and threw them over, he never usually thought past dinner. And here he was actively seeking to impress this woman. He wanted her to *like* him. Not just be overawed by a flash car and glamorous job. His life in the army, then on the polo circuit both as an amateur and now as a professional, had almost been somewhat nomadic, on the road most weeks of the summer and then overseas tournaments in the off season. He liked women, a lot, but his lifestyle had meant they were always more pleasant diversion than serious consideration. But there was something about this Sassenach, that in the maybe fifteen minutes he’d spent in her company he had a longing for warm summer evenings sitting in beer gardens with friends and cool winter ones drinking red wine in front of a roaring fire. “Jesus, Jamie. Get a hold of yourself” he said to himself. “In the cold light of day she might be awful.” But he knew he was just talking himself down. He didn't think he’d ever looked forward to lunch in London more.

 

Over in Claire’s apartment, Claire was frantically pulling clothes out of her wardrobe and discarding them on the bed. “Oi” Geillis let out a little shriek as a hot pink flying suit landed on her head. As her upstairs neighbour there was no way that Geillis could be dissuaded from being fully involved in what she was now calling “Operation Red Hot Viking” and she had summoned Louise from her flat in Shepherd’s Bush to ensure maximum participation.   
“What the fuck am I going to wear?” Claire was very much trying to keep her cool, but the truth was she was far to excited about this lunch than was necessarily good for her. Claire was level headed to a fault and not given to romantic notions but she could not get the image of Jamie, tall and lean, out her head. The sight of his broad shoulders being hugged by his sweat soaked shirt and the long hard length of his thigh which had been clearly visible through his breeches made the colour rise in her face every time so so much as thought of him. There was something different about him. Physically he was definitely very different from her last couple of boyfriends. Craig had been a student doctor like her, only a little taller than her, he had not quite outgrown his adolescent gawkiness, but his wry sense of humour and ability light up a room with his smile had been a lethal combination for Claire. That had ended, without much drama and ado when Craig had accepted a job in Manchester. As busy doctors neither had time for a long distance relationship and she had no desire to move with him. So they had hugged and wished each other well and moved on down their separate paths in the world. And then there was Frank. A History Professor at Oxford she had met him on a Saturday in the British Museum when she had decided that she needed to do more with her life than drink tequila with Geillis and Louise and work. She had decided she would spend her weekends immersed in culture and this is what led her to Frank in the coffee shop. Frank had been a mistake and one she was eager to leave behind. She hadn’t heard from him for a couple of weeks and she hoped he might finally have gotten the message. 

But Jamie. Jamie has roused her in ways she didn’t know she could be. Her stomach had been a mass of butterflies since last night and as lunch time approached she could feel them getting more and more restless.

Louise got up and brandished an outfit at Claire. “Wear this. It says demure Saturday lunch in London but also says I might not be wearing any knickers” Claire snorted loudly through her nose as she accepted the piece of cloth proffered to her and pulled it over her head. 

“Now Claire, I hope you realise the situation you are in.” Geillis spoke in a tone that brooked no interruption “This man is the Rudolph Valentino of the Polo scene. There is not a woman in the sport who does not want this man between her legs. Even if you hate his guts at lunch you owe it to all of us to sleep with him and tell us all about it. Every single detail. By the way he manages a mare between his legs on the pitch I’d say you’d be in good hands. Speaking of hands, have you seen the size of his?” Geillis sighed slightly.   
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to lunch with him, Gellie?” Claire turned towards the other two women smoothing the yellow jersey dress over her hips.   
“Na, he’s yours for the taking. I am still too taken with Armand, who called me last week and said he will be here for the Queen’s cup in a fortnight. Until then I bide”

“I’ll have lunch with him.” Stated Louise boldly. Claire looked at her and Gellis swatted her with her hand. “What? I’ve seen him remember? Anyone with eyes would say yes to lunch with him”

“Aye, fair point” conceded Geillis, shrugging slightly. Claire rolled her eyes at both of them and turned back to the mirror and began fiddling with her curls. 

“Leave them Claire.” It was Louise that spoke. “Your hair is like no one else's. Stop trying to tame it.” Normally Claire would have rolled her eyes again and stubbornly pinned it back, but something stopped her. Claire always considered her hair a bit ‘much’. Even with the fashion for hairspray and back combing she felt like her often riotous and always unruly curls made her stand out and that wasn’t something that necessarily made her comfortable. But Jamie, there was something about him that made her want to stand out from the crowd. A sense that he was more than able for her, no matter what she was. 

She added some pink lipstick and brown espadrilles and she was ready. Geillis was rummaging in her bedside drawer and when she emerged she was holding a packet of 12 condoms with only one missing. Times had been lean. With a flourish she upended the entire packet into Claire’s handbag.

“Geillis” Shrieked Claire and Louise in unison, Claire in horror, Louise is mirth.

“Claire, Jamie Fraser is a stallion. A King of men. A viking warrior. An unholy god of fuck. What kind of friend would I be if I sent you off unprepared? The look of Geillis face suggested she was only half joking and for a moment it gave Claire pause. She had no expectations beyond lunch but she did no she liked him and wasn’t sure that she was up for some kind of semi celebrity stud. Louise, who had more tact that Geillis, saw the flash of concern cross Claire’s face and put an arm around her. “Don’t listen to her. Jamie asked you out. He wants to have lunch with you. It might lead to more or it might just be lunch. Either way go and ENJOY it. You deserve some fun and some charming company. Beyond us of course.”

Claire grinned at Louise and with a raised eyebrow at Geillis she gathered up all the condoms from her purse and put them back in the box. She retrieved one, held it up to Geillis and placed it in her bag. Geillis nodded approvingly at the compromise. 

When it was time to leave, Louise and Geillis waved her off before retreating upstairs to Geillis flat where the plan was to hold vigil awaiting Claire’s return and get drunk. In no particular order of importance. Claire was half way down the road when she heard the sound of a stiff sash window going up and Geillis leaning out and yelling “Dinna forget where you put that condom!” and a host of other increasingly inappropriate pieces of advice as Claire scurried towards the end of the road. When a mother who was walking her daughter home from the park placed her hands over the child’s ears at one of Gellis’s more colourful suggestions she sped up further. She was never more glad to turn the corner and descend the steps of the tube station.

 

Old Alec was more than surprised to see Jamie. He was especially surprised to see Jamie on a Saturday.

“Is everything alright, lad? Tis not like you to be in London at the weekend. Is there a problem with your boots?

“What?” asked Jamie distractedly “Oh, nay, the boots are a marvel. I’ve actually come to order another pair. You were right about the buckling. It’s made no end of difference.”

“Well that’s great lad, but you could have called us for that like ye normally do. It’s not like you to make a face face visit when you could lying in your bed or even stick and balling. It’s a rare thing to have a weekend off in the middle of the season.”

“Oh, aye. I just fancied a run out is all” Jamie blushed slightly. Old Alec knew him well. He had been making polo boots since he was a teenager. He had made Jamie’s first pair when Jamie was just 7 and his father had brought him down. Theirs was a long and close friendship as well as a professional relationship. And never in the 18 or so years that Alec had known Jamie, had Jamie been near London at the weekend unless it was absolutely unavoidable. Alec was however, also tactful enough not to press him. Making the transaction for the boots and sending Jamie on his way.

Jamie arrived at the entrance to the tube station in Covent Garden a little before noon. Leaning against a wall which afforded him a good view of the people coming out, he scanned the crowds looking for her. His earlier nervousness was dissipating and he found it replaced by a feeling of fizzy anticipation that made him feel almost lightheaded. And then there she was. As she moved from the shadow of the station and out into the sum she almost took his breath away. The yellow dress made her stand out and her glorious medusa curls hung wildly around her face. Once again, he was struck by how different her easy and slightly untamed beauty was in comparison to the the coiffed near total conformity of most of the women he knew. There was a self possessed air to her that Jamie found incredibly appealing. That she was in no way performative in her movements and actions, instead the world seemed to bend around her. She was looking around now and at her watch. Jamie called out to her and was delighted and secretly a little flattered at how pleased she seemed to see him. He was also a little relieved. A small part of him had worried that she wouldn’t show (not a feeling Jamie Fraser was used to).

“Claire, ye came” He smiled at her, unable to help the grin that crossed his face. “So did you” she returned his smile.

“Where would you like to eat? I know a really nice little bistro just around the corner? They have tables outside and since it’s such a lovely day and all. Unless you had something else in mind? 

“To tell you the truth Claire, tis so long since I had lunch in London I wouldna have any clue where to go save maybe the Guards club, and I dinna know how much that would suit us today. So I will defer to the London expert and go where ye suggest.” He smiled at her again shrugging his shoulders in a slightly helpless manner.

The walked close together towards the Bistro, but did not actually touch. Claire could swear that the could feel little sparks of static electricity between them. When they arrived at the bistro, the owner, who had knew Claire well since she Geillis and Louise, along with various of their other friends ate there at least once a month and had done for the last 3 years, seated them in the little walled garden at a table under an umbrella. Having furnished them with large menus and recommended the moules, he retreated whilst they made their selection. Claire, who knew the menu like the back of her hand took the opportunity to covertly stare at Jamie whilst he was busy trying to decide between the moules and bouillabaisse. Whilst showered and dressed in clean clothes he wasn’t giving off quite the same wild animal energy he had been when they met, he might, if such a thing were possible, be even more handsome. He red hair was the same colour as red deer pelt and it caught the sun making it almost like a halo. It curled softly at the edges as it fell to his collar, neither banker short nor artistically long, it was simply *him*. He was as tall as she remembered and even seated his physical presence made her feel small and fragile. And Geillis was right about his hands and she couldn’t help the flash of what it might be like to have them on her body that flashes into her mind. Her thoughts were interrupted by the owner coming over to take their order. Jamie ordered them a jug of pimms to get started (“It’s the only thing to drink in this heat”) and himself the Moules whilst Claire opted for scallops to start.

“So Claire” Jamie began as a waiter placed the Pimms and two glasses on the table before moving away. “Since I dinna ken a single thing about ye, other than yer name, that yer a doctor and that ye live here in London, how about you tell me a wee bit about yerself.” He settled himself in his chair in a manner of someone who really listens. Claire found herself telling him all about her life, the death of her parents, her unconventional upbringing on a variety of archaeological sites across Europe and the Near East with her Uncle lamb which only ceased when she was packed off to boarding school in order to pass some exams. Jamie in turn regalled Claire with his stories about his days in the Army. He grew briefly quiet when he mentioned his time in the Falklands and Claire, who as a doctor had seen both the physical and psychological toll war took on soldiers did not press him. He told her all about his disastrous relationship with the daughter of a trainer in Deauville whilst he was still playing Polo as an amateur when not on tour with the Army. They both dissolved into tears of laughter as Jamie recalled the last time he had seen her. She had been half naked in the horse box of an opposing player and her reaction to being caught had simply to invite Jamie to join them. “And did you?” asked Claire looking at him from the side of her eye. Jamie laughed. “Well given it was my own cousin, Simon, I respectfully declined.” Claire laughed. “And were you dreadfully upset?” “Yes and no. I had thought myself in love with her. Annalise was very pretty, aye? And had a great flair for romance and drama which has a certain appeal when you’re a lad of barely 22. But no, I ken now it was just infatuation. Simon actually maybe did me a bit of favour most likely. Though that’s no to say I my feelings wasna a wee bit hurt at the time. Not to mention my pride. Aye, my pride was a great deal more wounded than my heart.” He smiled goofily at Claire and she felt her stomach go slightly soft. 

There was a slight pause as their food arrived before Jamie turned to her. “And what about you, Sassenach. Any great love stories in your cupboards?”   
Claire told him about Craig, that it had been a good relationship but whilst she missed his companionship from time to time, it had, in the end, been no great love story for the ages. She sighed wistfully and Jamie thought she had never been more lovely. She chewed her lip slightly as she thought about what she was going to say next and Jamie felt himself tense slightly. “And then there was Frank.” She made this statement in a way that conveyed a whole host of things the foremost of which was that this clearly had not ended well. “What did he do Sassenach? If ye can talk about it of course.” She hesitated for a moment and he could tell she was trying to decide whether to tell him or not, whether to trust him. “Frank was a mistake. It all started uneventfully enough, History professor, met him at the museum, very respectable, seemed the perfect gentleman. But he was far too intense. He lived in Oxford so we would usually just meet up at weekends, but then he started to show up at my house. I’d be coming home from a night shift at 6am and he’d be on my doorstep. He’d turn up at the pub when I was out with my friends. The charitable explanation would that be that it was a misguided attempt to be romantic but the truth of it is it felt invasive. Controlling. I broke it off with him but he doesn’t seem to be taking the hint. Flowers show up at least once a week and i had to change my phone number and go ex directory. He’s shown up a couple of times at my house as well.” 

“Jesus, Claire” Jamie looked horrified. “Have you contacted the police?”   
“Yes and they had absolutely no interested in my ‘love life’ as they so delicately described it. As far as they were concerned if I had invited Frank into my house once, then I was only getting what I should expect” She pursed her lips at this statement and Jamie reached out and put a hand over her two clenched ones. She looked up and her face relaxed a little. “But on the plus side, I haven’t seen or heard from him for at least two weeks now so I am hoping he has finally gotten the message.”

“Aye” Was Jamie’s very serious response. “And if he hasna call me and I’ll come round with a couple of cousins and put him straight.” 

“Will you bring Simon? I think I’d quite like to meet him” For a moment Jamie looked outraged before the corners of his mouth twitched and they both began to laugh.

At 4pm the owner regretfully told them they had to leave and after much protestation from Claire, Jamie paid the bill. Neither of them willing to break the spell of such a wonderful afternoon by ending it, they strolled hand in hand until they found a pub where they then spent several hours in a beer garden drinking gin and tonics. As the light faded Claire stood regretfully. 

“I should, I should get back. The last tube is at 11 and if I miss it I will have to cab across the city and it will probably take me until next week.”

“I could drive ye, Claire. If ye wanna stay….”

“Jamie, given that we have been drinking since lunchtime, I sincerely hope you aren’t planning on driving anywhere. Where so you live anyway? I never even thought to ask”

“I have small barn about half an hour out of the city. I like to keep my own horses so, I dinna keep them with Colum’s. I have keys to an apartment in the city though, in Chelsea. I’ll go there.”

Jamie stood now and turned to face Claire, taking her hands in his. His hands were warm and dry.

“Claire, would you like to come and see me play tomorrow? There is a match, its no so far from here. It’s not as swanky as the one on Friday, but its more serious Polo. The crowd will be smaller as the Prince of Wales and a couple of the Sultan of Brunei’s sons are playing.”

Claire smiled at him. “That sounds wonderful Jamie”

Reaching into her bag she rummaged around and found an eyeliner and a napkin. On it she scribbled her address and phone number.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jamie” She spoke softly. She lifted herself onto her tiptoes and very gently placed her lips against his. The kiss was chastity itself and yet it burned through Jamie like nothing he had ever felt. And then the warmth was gone as Claire walked away from him turning once to blow him a kiss before she disappeared back into the tube station.


	3. Chapter 3

Claire woke early. Although it was summer and the sun rose almost ridiculously early anyway it still had that watery paleness that suggested it had not been risen long. It had rained overnight and there was an undercurrent of greyness to the light that filtered through the gap where her open window had blow the curtain aside. Usually a late riser, for a moment Claire didn’t know what had woken her. A little flutter in her stomach reminded her. Jamie. 

She had arrived home about 11.30 the previous night. Geillis’ light had still been on so she had slunk up the front stairs and into her flat like a cat burglar. As much as she loved Geillis, she did not want to rehash the day for her and Louise. Whilst her friends would never deliberately try and ruin things for her, she just wanted to keep Jamie and the feelings that he stirred in her, to herself. She could happily wait to be grilled by Geillis on whether or not she ‘got the ride’ until another day. She had showered and then laid in bed just savouring how she felt. The thought of seeing him again made her tingle from the very tips of her toes and she knew there was no way she’d be getting back to sleep. Sighing she climbed out of bed and padded towards the kitchen. Coffee, the Sunday papers and a decent breakfast were in order.

By 8.30, Claire had breakfasted, showered and was dressed waiting for Jamie. The dark clouds from last night’s storm showed no sign of shifting so she put her raspberry pink culotte suit back in her wardrobe and was instead dressed in a white button down shirt, tucked into brown jeans and a tweed blazer. Unable to decide what to do with her hair she settled for tying it in a low ponytail and grabbed her felt fedora for in case the rain returned.

She then paced the apartment with the energy of a caged tiger, moving restlessly back and forth checking her watch.

At 8.55 her doorbell rang and despite being in a state of high alert for just such an event the sudden intrusion into her thoughts made her jump. Forcing herself not to run down the hallway and fling the door open, she walked slowly counting as she went. When she reached the door and 15 she slowly opened the door. 

Looking at him made her feel weak at the knees. Every time she saw him he seemed to get more handsome. Today he was standing in front of her wearing off white polo breeches, shiny boots with a dozen buckles and a dark blue polo shirt with a brown jumper over the top. His colouring was flattered by both the blue and the brown and his hair was brushed back from his forehead celebrating impossibly high cheekbones and cat like eyes. She had the fleeting and slightly manic thought that this was literally what a Disney Prince might look like if he were a real man before firmly getting a grip on herself before some of her internal dialogue made it out of her head and out of her mouth.   
****

 

As a lifelong equestrian, who had grown up on a working farm, early starts where in Jamie’s blood. It had to take a ferocious hangover to keep him in bed in the morning and there were always horses to work, practice chukkas to be played or tactics to be discussed. Since he was in the city and his horses for today’s matches were being driven there by his head groom, Lulu he would normally have used this time to go to the gym and train or to go through horses which horses the team should take for the upcoming cup in Deauville. Instead he lay in bed and thought about Claire. She was mesmerising. Jamie had had a lot of lunch dates with pretty women but never in his life had he had a lunch date with a woman like her. Not only was she so beautiful that she took his breath away, but so intelligent, interesting and funny too. There was not a single moment of stilted conversation, not a second of bashful silence. He felt both like he had known her forever but also that she was shiny and new. He wanted to know everything about her. Unlike many of his peers, who seemed to view unfaithfulness in marriage (both their own if they had them and in their parents) as de rigeur, Jamie had raised by parents who were very happily married and his father had always told him that one day he would find someone who would give his life as much happiness and meaning as Ellen MacKenzie had brought to his. For a long time, Jamie had treated this piece of wisdom with scepticism as the parents of his school friends fell foul to messy divorces and much younger second wives. But a small part of him had kept hope and it was part of why he was less predisposed to taking up with the cadre of ready and willing young women that haunted the stands and pony lines at every match than many of his peers. For the first time, Jamie thought his father might have had a point. Claire appealed to him on every level. Jamie’s first love had always been horses and polo and pursued excellence with dogged and single minded determination. For the first time in his twenty five years, he found them taking a back seat in his thoughts to something, someone else.

Pulling up outside her house the following morning he found himself checking his reflection in the mirror of the range rover before he got out. It felt like a lifetime between him knocking on the door and her answering, despite it being less than a minute. As she pulled the door open her face lit up in a smile and despite the greyness of the day, he felt as if the sun had come out. Before he could even formulate a coherent thought, he was kissing her, his hands on her face. Her lips were soft and warm against his own and as she returned his kiss he felt his heart would explode into pieces. Every moment of joy, of contentment, of victory paled in that moment to the feeling of her lips against his, the softness of her skin against his fingers, the feel of her arms going around his neck. They broke apart and Jamie pressed his forehead against hers, eyes closed as he fought to regain his composure and not simply sweep her up into his arms and back into her apartment.

“Hi” whispered Claire and he could hear the smile in her voice.  
“Hi” he murmured back, opening his eyes but not yet ready to take a step back and lose the physical connection with her. She ran her hand down his jaw and he followed her hand with his mouth, kissing the palm before finally stepping back.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach. I don’t know what came over me”

Claire smiled at him again, raising one eyebrow slightly. 

“Well as long as it comes over you again, I’ll accept your apology”

 

Claire had never seen anything like the opulence. The Gold Cup on Friday had been heady and glamorous enough, but very much a family day out with dogs and children, alfresco drinking and a rowdy and exuberant crowd of spectators. The Hurlingham Club on this particular Sunday was something else altogether. Although, just like Friday, the sartorial choices of the patrons ran from Cocktail wear to horsey chic, the feel of the whole place was elevated. The car park was a sea of rolls royces, high end horse boxes and sports cars and the shadowy presence of dark suited men in dark glasses and ear pieces suggested that the VIPs were seriously VI. Looking around there was a tent sponsored by Taittinger and another by Moet. The food was being provided by Fortnum and Mason’s of London. Not normally one to feel self conscious, the years of living in remote locations had made her used to being different, she felt a slight pang of unease. If these were the people that Jamie lived and worked with every day how could she ever possibly belong in his world? As if sensing her unease, Jamie squeezed her hand and smiled at her. After a detour via the Taittinger tent where a word with the head barman and a hastily and secretly exchanged five pound note to make sure Claire was taken care off, Jamie led Claire towards the stands. 

“I’d take you down to the pony lines, but Dougal is likely to be like a bear with a sore arse. His mistress is in town and so she will have been wining and dining til the wee small hours. He’d likely put you off polo for good. But dinna worry, I will make sure ye have some good company”

He led her half way along the benches and up to the third row where sat a beautiful woman of about 45. Her hair was swept back and held in place with a scarf knotted at the nape of the neck, and like a good number of the spectators she wore s striped shirt with the collar turned up, a blue puffa jacket and the air of one whom is extremely at ease in their surroundings. 

“Claire, might I introduce you to Minerva Wattiswade Grey, Lady Melton, the Duchess of Pardloe.” Claire was struck silent for a moment before both Jamie and the Duchess began to laugh.   
“And a good day to you too, Laird Broch Taurach” Claire’s eyebrows were raised up to her eyebrows and she was about to turn to Jamie when the woman turned to Claire, grasping her hand in both of hers.

“Don’t listen to Jamie, I’m Minnie and it's my absolute pleasure to meet any friend of Jamie’s” Minnie’s smile was sincere and Claire felt herself relax a little. “Off you go to the pony lines, Jamie. Word has it Laura is once again trying to get Dougal to leave his wife and it's making her more cantankerous than ever. The gossip is that she threw a tantrum and a rather excellent dessert over him whilst in dinner at Dougal’s club and its only through the liberal exchange of 10 pound notes that it didn’t make Dempster.* As a result, Dougal is giving Gheghis Khan a run for his money on the overbearing jack booting bully stakes. Hal tells me that Rupert is threatening not to play Dougal has been so vile. Best you run along and if not soothe the savage beast, at the very least put him in his place by reminding him that you are the captain. I’ll look after Claire and make sure by the end of the day she knows all the scurrilous polo gossip.” Jamie’s jaw set at this and he nodded grimly. 

“Best I be off then. Our match is second and then there will be a break until after lunch. I’ll come back for you then.” He kissed her briefly and Minnie raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Come, my dear,” urged Minnie, sitting herself back down. Claire sat down next to her and scanned the crowd.

“That blonde man down there, in the lavender shirt, is my husband, Hal. The shorter man is his brother, John, who you will get to know as he is very good friends with Jamie” She looked sideways at Claire as if inviting her to share her relationship with Jamie. Claire studiously ignored the look.   
“The both play for Helwater, which is currently trying to entice Jamie to play for their team. They very recently, as in this morning, lost their professional and as such have a ringer who is here from Mexico buying horses standing in” 

“What happened to him?” The story was ringing vague bells in the back of Claire’s mind “ahh, the wife and daughter” Minnie laughed, “well not the wife, that was just a story put around by Lionel Brown, pharmaceuticals tycoon, patron of one of the teams playing in the first match and who is pathologically jealous of men like William Dunsany who not only were born into wealth, but know how to keep it and are effortlessly accepted into the polo elite. He was delighted when he heard Geneva was catting around with Christie and decided to add fuel to the fire. No one really believes it, Louisa and William were childhood sweethearts and still seem to think they are on their honeymoon. Sadly, their mutual and ongoing infatuation with each other has meant that their daughters, the eldest in particular, have not necessarily had the oversight in their upbringing which one might consider desirous.”

It was Claire’s turn to raise her eyebrow at this. “In other words, Claire my dear, the girl is a hellcat.”

At this point the stands began to fill up and Claire found herself and Minnie surrounded by a cabal of Minnie’s friends. They were a high spirited bunch and very friendly to Claire, including her in conversation and generally making her feel much more at ease. 

Once the matches started the focus shifted to the pitch. As Jamie has predicted, the increased security meant a smaller crowd which meant the more casual spectators weren’t present. The group of young women who sat in the stands closest to the pony lines, were present but in far fewer number than had been on Friday, as only the better connected amongst them had been able to get access. About half way through the first match an incredibly beautiful girl with big hazel eyes, a rose complexion and a waterfall of chestnut hair entered the stands along with two other women, who, being only slightly less eye catching were clearly be close relations. 

“Those are the Dunsany’s” Minnie leaned into Claire. “The middle one is Geneva, you can see why she has no trouble distracting her father’s players. The other two are her mother and sister, Isobel.”

“Wow, good looking family” Claire murmured back. She was about to turn to Minnie again, when the whistle blew for the second half and all attention turned back to the field.

The first match between the Browns and a team sponsored by Cartier in which two of the Sultan of Brunei’s sons were playing in, was fast paced and engrossing. The grass was wet and the going tough due to the overnight rain on the previously sun hardened ground and what had 15 minutes ago been a sea of emerald grass was now a sea of mud. Even to her untrained eye, Claire could see the game was dirty as hell, with foul after foul being committed. It was also plain to see that the Umpire heavily favoured the Blackers.

After a fifth uncalled foul against the Cartier team, up went their sticks. The crowd was booing by now and the Umpire sensed he did not have the support of anyone other than Lionel Brown and his brother Richard who played back. Once again, it was Minnie who provided Claire with the context.   
“The umpire is Arvin Hodgepile. He’s an american, but rumour has it his patron won’t be extending his contract beyond Deauville. He’s hoping to curry favour with the Browns as a result” Claire nodded thinking that the politics of Polo were definitely more complicated that the game itself. 

After a brief interlude where the field was returned to its former glory it was time for Jamie’s match. She had enjoyed watching Jamie on Friday, but given the events of the last 36 hours, the thought of seeing him thunder down the boards to ride off an opponent gave her a frisson which was alarmingly close to sexual. 

She sat up straighter as the players lined up, Jamie easily recognisable from his size and the shock of red hair which peeked out from under his helmet. She saw him scanning the crowd for her, lifting his stick to her in a salute when he located. She waved back shyly but was aware of a pair of hazel eyes looking at her from two rows down with no attempt to conceal the unflattering mixture of surprise and disdain in them. Claire, tossed her head and pretended not to notice, but Minnie had caught the exchange. 

“Dearie, if you are going to get involved with James Fraser, you might as well get used to that look. He’s the most eligible bachelor on the polo circuit”

The match itself was thrilling. Mid way through the first chukka the rain which had been threatening all day made its appearance. Umbrellas went up, mackintoshes were retrieved and hats were donned. But no one made to leave the stands. This was polo for the serious and it would take more than a summer storm to shift people from their seats. 

The match was faster and more thrilling than the first, Leoch and Highgrove, for whom the Prince of Wales played, were all skilled and aggressive players. From throw in to final whistle, each chukka was more thrilling than the first with players shifting horses at breakneck speed until the number three for Highgrove overturned a pony. The pony mercifully righted itself and seemed sound if a little shaken but after that play became less frenetic and more considered as many of the players swapped out for heavier ponies, better suited to the conditions.

Despite 4 goals, score by Jamie, who had had an stunning game, Leoch ran out the losers, by 2 goals, largely due to Dougal spending a large amount of the match charging round, shouting orders and crossing the opposing player’s lines. As the team rode off the pitch at the final bell, Claire could see Jamie’s jaw quilted with tension and noticed the way his fingers beat out a rhythm on his thigh as he cantered off the pitch. Deciding Jamie might not be putting in an immediate appearance, she took the opportunity to nip to the loo. Once inside the stall she heard the arrival of a group who had clearly decided to take advantage of the increased breaks between matched caused by the wet ground to do the same thing. They mostly seemed to be concerned with repairing faces judging from the exuberant chatter and Claire let it wash over her until she heard Jamie’s name being mentioned. 

“Did you hear Jamie Fraser has a girlfriend?”  
“What Juliette Summers? Despite what she tries to claim, that lasted one lunch and a dinner, where he left early because one of his horses was due to foal”  
“No, no, not Juliette, someone new.”  
“Araminta Jex-Harrison apparently went to Annabel’s with him a few weeks ago. She’s been haunting the pony lines ever since.”  
“Wasn’t he stepping out with Maxima Shand? I’m almost certain he took her to the polo ball.”  
“No, this one is NEW. No one has seen her before, she’s not part of the club. But she’s here today sitting in the stands with Minnie Grey and acting like the cat that got the cream”  
“Well if she is Jamie Fraser’s girlfriend she *is* the cat that got the cream”  
“Please, one, Jamie Fraser never goes on more than two dates with anyone, so chances are even if he did bring her here today, it’s the last we’ll see of her and two, if Jamie Fraser goes to play for Helwater, Geneva Dunsany will have him in her bed before he’s been there a week”  
“Oh I don’t know, Jamie isn’t the push over Tom Christie was. She may have to work a bit harder there than she’s used to.  
“Puh-lease - when did Geneva Dunsany ever not get her man? Jamie Fraser hasn’t a hope. Its enough to make you feel sorry for whoever this new girl is. She has NO idea.”

The group laughed and Claire heard the door open and they moved out. Taking a moment to compose herself, she unbolted the door and moved to the sink. Juliette and Araminta and Maxima and Geneva. Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, she muttered to herself. She liked Jamie a lot, but she also knew she liked him too much to be involved with him if this was his game play. Nothing ever lasted beyond two dates. And this was their second. And probably final. Claire splashed water over her face, she felt foolish, but collected herself. Jamie was nice. Jamie was more than nice. But Jamie was clearly a playboy and there was no way this going anywhere. She would put on her big girl pants, go out there, tell him she needed to leave and go. Coming down the stairs from the bathroom she could see Jamie, his back to her talking to someone. Her heart fluttered for a moment and her resolve wavered. What was so bad about maybe having a little fling? Maybe it was different between them, it had felt different. As she stepped off the last stair in order to walk towards him, he shifted slightly revealing who it was he was talking to. Chestnut lashes fluttered as hazel eyes looked adoring at him, a tinkling laugh at whatever he had said, a delicate hand which strayed too long on his bicep. Jamie laughing down at her, at his hand removing a piece of straw from her hair. Feeling like she had been struck, Claire wheeled round and headed for the door. Apparently, two dates was his limit and there was no guarantee of his exclusivity even for the duration of that. Her haste towards the door sent her careening of another person. She muttered an apology as she tried to dodge them, but a clipped voice called out her name. “Claire? You’re Claire aren’t you?” She looked up to see a handsome man in his late forties, with fair hair and blue eyes. It took her a moment but she placed him as Hal, Minnie’s husband. Jamie clearly having heard Hal call her name swung round and she almost broke into a run to get to the door. Fuck being a grown up. She needed to get out of there and fast. Practically shoulder barging the door open she headed out of the clubhouse and toward the exit. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was but they were still in London which meant there had to be a tube station somewhere. Forcing herself to walk rather than actually make a run for it, she found herself, in a ironic facsimile of her walk to the door this morning, counting in her head. She was half way down the street when she heard the sound of someone running behind her and calling her name.

“Claire, Claire” His voice was getting closer. She debated briefly whether she could out run him before accepting that it was unlikely and slowing her pace and accepting her fate. 

“Claire, where are ye going?”

“Home Jamie. I’m going home” As much as she wanted to be able to face him down she couldn’t look at him.

“But why, Claire?”

“Why?” she looked up at him. “Why? Because of Armanita and Juliette and Maxima and fucking Geneva. Because not only do you never go more on more than two dates, it seems you spend the second date lining up your next conquest. Who were you out with when you met me?” Her voice had gotten steadily louder. Realising this she dropped to a hiss. “That’s why.”

“Claire, ye have me all wrong.” His voice was low and his accent so strong she had to concentrate to make him out. “Yes, I go out with lasses. No, I tend not to go out with them more than a couple of times. But it's not because I am some kind of casanova, luring women to ma bed and throwing them over. I never go out with them more than a few times, because I realise very quickly we have nothing in common and I’m no in the habit of stringing people along.” He took a shaky breath. “Claire, I’m no lining anything up with Geneva. I’ve known her since we were both little and I’m probably one of the few people who despite knowing that she is poorly disciplined, overly indulged and under worked, actually likes her. Probably because I’ve seen her knee deep in horse shit and it’s a great leveller of people ye ken.”

Claire looked at him sceptically. “Well the word on the street is that the second you go to play for Helwater, she’ll be hatching her plots to get you into her bed” Her face was still tense but her voice had lost its edge. 

“Aye, so I hear, but fortunately I get a say in the matter. Like I said, I like Geneva more than most but not like that. She could do the dance of the seven veils outside my bedroom window and I’d still no let her near me. Claire, listen to me. I ken I only met ye, what? Less than 48 hours ago? But I also ken I want a good deal more than two dates wi’ ye. If you’d be willing?”

He brushed a curl from her face, the thumb dusting her jaw as he did. Claire looked at him and felt her stomach dip. It appeared that dating Jamie Fraser evoked similar feelings to being on a rollercoaster. 

“Yes, yes.” she whispered “I’d be willing” Standing on tiptoes she kissed him gently. “I’m sorry I overreacted. It's just …” She gestured around her and shrugged. Jamie nodded understandingly.   
“I have to stay til after lunch when they do the presentation. I’d look like a terrible sport if I don’t, but we’ll get out of here then. Claire nodded and took the hand Jamie proffered her as they turned back towards the club.

 

Lunch turned out to be a raucous time, with Minnie playing host. Hal and John Grey, it turned out where charm itself and it didn’t take long to discover that Hal knew her uncle Lamb, albeit casually from the time his father had dispatched him to Cairo for a summer on a dig when he felt that he was spending a little too much of his time in the Goat and Boots, the pub near the estate where John and Hal had grown up. Jamie introduced her to everyone and was never more than a few feet away from her and even when he was deep in conversation with the Prince, she got the sense that he was keeping an eye on her. The entertainment came around three pm, thankfully after the Prince had left for another engagement when Dougal’s mistress arrived and began aggressively flirting with Helwater’s Mexican ringer, Jorge. This had exactly the desired effect on Dougal who had a somewhat hypocritical view on the extra curricular affairs and after the kind of hissed and clench jawed row which has everyone around you shifting uncomfortably, her whisked her off to Claridges for dinner and most likely a king sized bed. 

Finally leaving about four, Jamie drove Claire home. She was working earlies the rest of the week, so much as would have liked to join the rest of the Leoch team for dinner she opted to go home for a shower and an evening watching Songs of Praise and reading. She and Jamie chatted easily on the journey and he dropped her outside her flat with a kiss that almost made her drag him out of the car and into the flat with her. Eventually she disentagled herself from him and climbed from the car, with Jamie promising to call her the following evening.

Slightly drunk on both champagne and Jamie it took her three goes to get her key into the lock. Walking down the hall towards her living room, humming and discarding hats, jackets and boots as she went, she heard the TV on in the lounge. Thinking she had forgotten to switch it off in her excitement and nerves, she pushed the living room door open. She clicked on the light only to discover she hadn’t left her TV on. She had a visitor and not a welcome one.

“What are you doing here, Frank?”

 

*Dempster is Nigel Dempster a celebrity gossip columnist/ journalist in the 1980’s


	4. Chapter 4

“Darling, you’re home.” Claire stood for a moment in shock as Frank rose from her sofa and approached her acting as if she had not spent the last month attempting to make him see that she had no interest in him and as if he had all the reason in the world to be sitting in her front room watching Countryfile and drinking her whisky. 

“Frank…” She began, but was cut off as he enveloped her in a hug. 

“Now, Claire, I think we need to talk about where you’ve been all weekend. I’ve been trying to call you and when you didn’t answer on Friday, I came by. I was worried, and what do I see? You dancing off at 11.30 all dressed up and not coming home until 11 at night. Really Claire, what will people say? Especially when you go kissing men in your doorway at 8 o’clock in the morning. I have a position to uphold, Claire. I can’t have my girlfriend kissing other men and gallivanting around town”

He turned away from her back towards the sideboard, filling up his glass of whisky again. From where she was stood she speculated that he’d been here a while. Frank was a slow drinker, but the three quarters full bottle was now a little under a quarter full. 

“Frank.” She took a deep breath. “We talked about this. I’m not your girlfriend. I never was. We had a few dates and it didn’t work out and now I would really appreciate it if you would leave and not come back. I don’t know how you got in here, but you do not have my permission to be in my home.”

She was trying her best to sound cool and collected but her stomach was clenching with fear. She had always assumed Frank was mostly harmless but tone deaf when it came to hearing things that he didn’t want to but now for the first time she seriously worried that he might be dangerous.

“Claire, Claire, Claire. You’re being such a silly.” He walked back towards her and she involuntarily took a step back. “ You know how good we are together, I appreciate that you are trying to be a lady and play hard to get, but really darling, you’ve caught me. You have absolutely no reason to continue to lead me on a wild goose chase. I know that living in the city, and spending time with that Scottish degenerate from upstairs, you’re probably used to having men throw you over and therefore you feel like you have to prolong the chase but I see you for who you are Claire.” He opened his arms for her to step into them and she took a further step back.   
“Look Claire,” he continued “I know this is a lot to take in and that you probably never dreamed that you’d be able to settle down with a man that could truly love you, but you can with me. I’m going to go now, but let’s have lunch tomorrow. Maybe make some plans for the future.”

Claire found herself nodding dumbly, relief that he was going to leave rushing through her and dousing her urge to fling the nearest heavy object at his delusional head. Better that he leave voluntarily. Like a sleepwalker she walked him to the door and acquiesced when he kissed her cheek. She exhaled the breath she had been holding as she closed the door behind him slamming on the deadbolt and chain and thumbing the yale lock into a locked position. She slid down against the door, her whole body trembling. Fucking Frank. Not only had he apparently not gotten the hint but he was an actual bloody psycho. She breathed deeply and stood. She checked the door for any signs of forced entry and then checked the windows at the back. Everything seemed secure and yet he had gotten into her home and had clearly lost his mind. Feeling a wave of panic wash over her, opened the door and dashed up the stairs hoping against hope the Geillis was in. She couldn’t stay in her own flat a second longer.

She’d been hammering on her friend’s door for less than 15 seconds when it was flung open. Geillis started to say something about Claire battering her door down but stopped when she saw Claire’s face.

“Lord, have mercy, Claire ye’re as white as a sheet. What on earth happened? Did the Viking do something to ya?”

Claire shook her head mutely. “Frank. Frank was in my flat when I got home. I don’t know how he got in but he was sitting on my fucking sofa drinking my whiskey when I got home. He’s mad, Geillie. He was going on and on about me being his girlfriend and how I didn’t need to play hard to get as I already caught him and a load of bollocks about me acting out because I didn’t feel like I was worthy of love and ...Christ, the fucking gall of that man.” The immediate shock of the last half an hour of so was subsiding and being replaced by anger. “That fucking creep had the gall to act like he was doing me a favour by being a lunatic stalker. Jesus, we never even fucking slept together.”

“Aye, he’s a prick we know that well enough, but now we have to contend with the fact that he’s a prick who willna take no for an answer, who knows where you live and somehow got into your home. So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go down stairs and get yer clothes for a few days and ye’ll stay up here with me. Then we’re going to call the police, not that they were any help last time.Then we’re going to arrange for a locksmith to come in tomorrow and change all the locks on yer apartment door. I don’t need to be in work until 10 tomorrow so I’ll have a word with both Dave in the basement and Mrs James on the top floor to see if either of them heard anything and also to warn em not to buzz anyone in that’s not here for them.” Geillis nodded, seemingly satisfied that her plan was robust. “Then we’re going to have a glass of wine and distract ourselves by you telling me all about the last couple of days with, Jamie Fraser, King of Men.”  
++++

It had been a long day. The dinner had gone on until far too late and elated by a good weekend of polo, the near closing of the deal for his move to Helwater and most of all meeting Claire, he had drunk more than was usual for him. He’d arrived home a little after 1 am, thanking the lord that his groom had opted to hang around in town and could drive them both home. The Chelsea flat was nice enough, but after a weekend of physically punishing polo he wanted nothing more than his own bed, waking up to the sun coming in the skylight in the morning, followed by a day of hacking his new horses through the countryside with maybe some stick and balling or practice chukka’s in the early evening if the light stayed good. He also wanted some time to think about Claire. Her dramatic departure from the Hurlingham Club had scared him badly. He knew he had a reputation, almost all polo players did, but he’d always considered his to be largely undeserved. He dated lots but took very few women to his bed and didn’t really enjoy the groupie scene. But looking at it from Claire’s perspective changed his view. Maybe he wasn’t the worst but his revolving door of dates did look bad to Claire, and he could see why. He’d been so desperate to impress her he’d dragged her into the vipers pit. He loved polo but he also understood the world. It was insular, elitist and entitled and for every good egg like Minnie Grey there was a Geneva Dunsany. He cringed a little thinking about her. He hadn’t been lying in what he said to Claire, he had known Geneva a long time and probably liked her more than most. But he also knew that in recent months she had been making a play for him (which had done nothing to enhance the already strained relationship between himself and Tom Christie). When he went to play for Helwater she’d be impossible to avoid and if she wouldn’t take no for an answer might make his life very difficult. He wanted very badly to play polo with the Greys, who both being very gifted amateurs played hard but were generous teammates and he liked and respected William Dunsany, one of the few high goal patrons who fully pulled his weight on his team but also listened to his pro. He and Jamie had a long discussion of the needs the team would have horsewise for the upcoming Palm Beach Season, where lighter, smaller horses with better wind did better in the heat and humidity that the more solid ponies they favoured in the UK season. He had a few more weeks to think on things and he was hopeful that if he could see Claire again that her presence might just deter Geneva’s advances and if not he was also hopeful that the upcoming Deauville tournament might provide her with some distraction. There were rumours from the continent of the dashing Comte St Germain who was currently cutting a swathe both through the game and it's followers. Maybe a handsome man with a real title attached would be sufficient distraction. 

 

Claire was up early the following morning to start her week’s worth of early shifts. The police had been somewhat sympathetic to her plight and had said they would send someone to speak with Frank in Oxford, however she found herself looking nervously over her shoulder as she headed towards the tube station, the early morning stillness which she normally cherished, so rare was it in London, making her uneasy. She reported into work and headed to the administration floor. The police had also suggested letting her employer know in case Frank turned up at the hospital. She filed the report and headed down to the doctors lounge determined to find herself a bucket of coffee. She had three surgeries already slated for the day and this is before referrals and emergencies came in. Claire was just settling into her coffee and toast whilst reviewing charts for her first case when Louise appeared. Geillis had obviously briefed her as her first question was about Frank. She had just enough time to bring her up to speed on that before the hospital tannoy system summoned them both to the A&E where a crash on the ring road has sent several patients.

The rest of the week was just as hectic. On Thursday night, Claire let herself into her flat for the first time since Sunday. It was hot and musty as the heatwave had not abated. Her answer machine light blinked rapidly. She pushed play waiting to hear what was there. As she suspected the first 4 messages were from Frank. They started off chirpy “Hello Darling, I missed you at lunch. I assume you probably were held up at the damn hospital. The sooner we move you to Oxford and a nice little hospital the better. I’ll call you again later” However, whilst the tone of the later messages was still outwardly light there was a tension in Frank’s voice that suggested very strongly that he was keeping it together only because he did not want to incriminate himself on tape. The soft scottish burr that followed almost made her jump with surprise. The contrast of it gentleness and rolling r’s and Frank’s scarcely controlled venom and clipped constonents could not have been more marked. Jamie. Whilst it would be untrue to say she had forgotten him, the events of the last few days certainly meant that she had pushed him to the back of her mind, the two days they spent together seeming like a lifetime ago. “Jamie” she whispered his name. The thought of him made the blood pound in her ears, the force of her desire unfurling like a flower towards the sun. The tape rolled on, three messages from Jamie before the tape ran out. In the last of them, recorded last night she could hear a note of dejection in his voice and it felt like a little sharp pain just under her ribs. “Sassenach, Claire. I dinna want to be bothering you if ye no’ interested. I know we had a wee set to on Sunday, but I thought we had got past it. Anyway, I just want to know yer ok. If ye want to ring me my number is Surrey 567853. I hope I’ll hear from ya, but if I don’t, take care of yerself Claire.”

Claire snatched the receiver up and was dialling before she even had a moment to think. The phone answered on the second ring.  
“Jamie?’  
“Claire, I’m verra happy to hear from ye”   
“I’m sorry, I’ve had quite the week. I arrived home on Sunday and Frank was sitting in my front room”  
“What??? Claire, ye should have called me, Shit, I knew I should have walked you in. Jesus, I’m that sorry, Claire.”  
“Jamie, neither of us could have known. But I haven’t been at my flat which is why I haven’t been answering my calls or picking up my messages.”  
Jamie’s chuckle reverberated slightly down the phone.  
“Well I’m verra glad you weren’t avoiding me, but I am sorry for your troubles lass. Where are you now?”  
“Back in my flat. First time this week, but I am running out of clean clothes.”  
“Tell me yer no there alone, Claire.”  
“I am but the door, on which all the locks have been changed and upgraded are locked and my new alarm is set. I’ll probably stay at Gellis’s again tonight though and maybe come back here at the weekend.”

Jamie picked up the reluctance in her voice.   
“Claire, would you like to come here this weekend? There are no matches and I was planning on having some down time before we start gearing up for the Challenge Cup. I have a couple of potential buyers coming to look at some horses but other than that nothing. It’s lovely and peaceful out here.”

Claire thought on it for a moment. Both the thought of a weekend out of London at a location Frank would never find her at and some time with Jamie unimpeded by ex girlfriends and the need to get the last tube home was very appealing. 

“That sounds wonderful Jamie. Thank you.”

“Yer welcome, lass. It will be nice to have some company apart from Bran and Elphin”

“Who?”

“My dogs - don’t worry. They love company too.”

Jamie laughed and Claire was mildly appalled to hear herself giggle in reply. Apparently being in the same room as him was not a requirement in him making her feel slightly light headed.

“Well, I’m excited to meet them”. 

 

They had arranged for Jamie to collect her from the hospital straight after her shift ended and the moment she had gotten off of the phone she had charged up the stairs into Gellis’ flat. Geillis however, was not home and so she called Louise and told her to clear her schedule at lunchtime the following day and left a note for Geillis summoning her to the greasy spoon cafe round the corner both from the hospital and the office block where Geillis worked as an advertising executive. 

Geillis was already there when Louise and Claire arrived from the hospital having been slightly delayed by a tonsillectomy and a Cholecystectomy respectively. Since this was their regular haunt for post mortems and debriefs (More usually frequented on Mondays in order to best reflect on the weekend and eat away the remains of hangover), Geillis had already ordered (Full english breakfast for her, Omelette with cheese and red peppers for Louise, Fried egg sandwich for Claire) and three mugs of hot tea sat on the table. 

“Right then, Claire. Why have ye summoned us. I assume this is to do with the red headed viking and no the pillock from Oxford since ye did no see the need to either stay up and tell me or wake me up.”

“Yes, to the Viking, no to the pillock.” Claire lifted her mug unable to stop herself smiling into to.

“Whaaaaat?” Geillis practically screeched, looking at Claire’s face which she was barely keeping control of.

“He’s invited me to spend the weekend. At his house. In Surrey. Just me, him and his dogs”

Louise sat there with her mouth hanging open slightly whilst let out a high pitched keening noise.

“Oh my god. It’s like being invited to Graceland by Elvis. The word on the polo scene is that Jamie Fraser is notoriously private not a one of his legions of lady friends have ever made it back to the Ridge.”

“The Ridge?”

“Aye, that’s the name of his stables. Many a lassie would kill for an invite to Jamie Fraser’s secret lair.”

Louise giggled “Now all I can picture is Claire headed into the bat cave! Maybe he is a superhero - the way people seem to talk about him he must have some kind of superpower”

They collapsed into giggles as Claire began to hum the Batman theme tune and only just managed to get themselves back under control as their food arrived. 

“So, Claire,” Louise turned to her, her face more serious now. “I take it you like this Jamie then? I mean you literally met him LAST WEEK.”

“Yikes, it feels like about a year. Am I being too hasty? Do you think it’s a bad idea to go?

“Oh no, I am team Red Hot Viking, I hope you ride yourself silly and I am not talking about horses. It’s just not like you. I’ve known you make a man wait three weeks for a second date and then leave during dessert. This..” Louise gestured at Claire with her fork “Is a new look for you.”

Claire blushed slightly.  
“I like him a lot. It’s scary because it’s not like me to get in deep and fast and also he seems to have a *lot* of female admirers and I worry that ultimately he might end up being a hard dog to keep in the yard, so to speak”

“Aye, well. He’s invited you to his house, he took you to Hurlingham and sat ye with Minnie Grey who is not only Don Corleone of the Polo set but also an incredibly close friend of the Frasers. The Grey’s and Frasers go back years with Brian and the current Duke’s father were verra close. Whilst the Duke himself is a little older, John and Jamie have played polo and ridden horses together since they were boys and it's no secret in the polo scene that it was the Greys and no’ the Frasers or MacKenzies that helped Jamie keep body and soul together after Brian died.”

“Oh” Claire was a little shocked. Whilst it had been abundantly clear that Jamie was very fond of Minnie and the rest of the Grey’s she had no idea she was any more than a friendly face to keep Claire company. Both Minnie’s attentiveness and later Hal’s recognising her right before she’d literally run out of the door, suddenly carried much more weight.”

Geillis said nothing but sipped her tea, arching a brow in Claire’s direction. Louise smirked and pretended to pay close attention to her eggs. Claire who could feel the colour rising in her cheeks, said nothing but was torn between the urge to do an unseemly dance of joy and to run screaming from the cafe. The former emotion won out and Claire could feel the smile on her face, so broad that it was actually making her face hurt. Jamie Fraser liked her. And she liked him. 

 

As she exited the hospital a little later than expected after a surgery got pushed back, she looked around for Jamie. Looking for the dark blue range rover he collected her in on Sunday she was taken aback to see a tall, well built red head lolling against the side of a dark blue porsche. Louise, who was bringing up the rear and almost collided with Claire who had come to a halt, laughed softly into Claire’s ear.   
“Looks like he brought the Batmobile” Claire snorted in mirth as she and Louise embraced and the latter floated off in the direction of the pub humming the theme tune.

Crossing the road, trying to keep the grin on her face slightly under control she was heartened to see that Jamie wasn’t even trying. His smile lit up his entire face and it made the heat pool in her belly. She was no more than three feet from him when she felt an arm grab her and she spun around to face them.

“Where have you been, Claire. First you miss lunch and then you don’t answer my calls. Do you you have something you want to say to me?” Whilst his voice was light his face was twisted into a snarl that she had never seen before. 

“Do I have something I want to say? Yes Frank I have something I fucking want to say. We went out 3 times. Then you kept showing up, at my local, at my house, at my work. I made it very clear to you that we are not an ongoing concern and then I come home and find you sitting on my sofa watching my TV, drinking my good fucking single malt, having apparently been aware of my every move for the entire weekend.”

“Claire, darling, do calm….” His voice was still light but his hand now squeezed her arm, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. With all her strength she wrenched her arm away.

“DON’T TELL ME TO FUCKING CALM DOWN.” Claire roared at him. “I want you to get the fuck out of my face and the fuck out of my life. I called the police on you Frank. I know they came and spoke to you at your office. Now get the fucking hint. Get in your car, drive back to Oxford and never darken my door again.”

“Really…” He moved towards her once more.

“I think the lady was verra clear on what she would like, Sir” She hadn’t heard Jamie approach but she could feel his presence behind her now, his hand resting very gently on the small of her back. The word ‘Sir’ was spat out from between clenched teeth. 

“Excuse me but this is between me and my girlfriend” Frank waved Jamie away but didn’t make eye contact. He moved to try and step between Jamie and Claire but Jamie was quicker and moved himself so that he was now slightly in front of her meaning that Frank would need to reach around him if he tried to touch Claire again.

“It seems to me that you’re making her very uncomfortable and she’d prefer you were no here. So here is the thing. Ye can either turn around, get into your wee car and never darken her door again. Or…” Jamie took a step forward pulling himself up to his full intimidating height and size and Claire was moderately gratified to see Frank quail a little.

“I can make sure someone from yon hospital comes out and takes care of ye.” He flexed his hands and Frank swallowed visibly. “Ye ken?”

Frank wavered for a moment before deciding the Jamie appeared to be quite seriously in his threat of bodily harm and he turned tail and scuttled down the road and round the corner.

“ I take it that was Frank?” A smile played on Jamie’s lips but his expression and voice were soft with concern.

“Yes” her voice shook slightly and she could feel her knees starting to knock as the adrenaline of the last few moments kicked in and her fight or flight response decided to change tack. She staggered slightly and Jamie caught her arm, pulling her close to him. He smelt of sandalwood, leather and something minty. She closed her eyes momentarily and let her forehead rest on his chest, breathing him and letting him warm her.

“Its okay now Sassenach. I have ye. You don’t need to be scairt. Not of me, not of Frank, nor anyone else. As long as I am with ye.” 

Opening the door of the car he took her weekend bag and threw it in the boot gesturing at her to get in the car. Getting in beside her, the started the engine. She caught his hand as he went to out the car in gear.   
“Thank you Jamie” Her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper. Leaning forward she kissed him softly. “Take me away from here.”


	5. Chapter 5

Once they got out of the city there was little traffic as they drove through the country roads. They chatted about their week, but quietly Jamie brooded about the altercation at the hospital. He had been genuinely worried for Claire when she called him yesterday and it had been all he could do not to drive up to London and park outside her house. The knowledge that she didn’t need two stalkers watching her every move had prevented him, but seeing Frank accost her outside the hospital made him feel sick to his stomach. It had taken all his willpower not to pound him into the pavement and he could not guarantee such control if their paths were to cross again. Once again, he was taken aback at what Claire roused in him. A week ago he had never even met her and now he was threatening violence and whisking her off white knight style to his yard. His sanctuary. The place he was most protective of. Whilst the stables were busy enough, the realities of polo were such that complete solitude wasn’t really practical, his house was strictly for him. Very close friends, family that was it. He didn’t do business there and he certainly didn’t bring women he’d known for a week there. In fact with the exception of Minnie Grey and his sister Jenny he wasn’t sure any woman had so much as stepped over the threshold of his home. Yet once again, Claire seemed to defy everything he thought he knew about women and the pursuit of them. His friends all seemed to have clearly defined rules and the women he dated appeared to have their own versions of them. He himself conformed to them to some extent, the notion that the endgame was different depending on whether you were male or female. Yet with Claire, there did not seem to be any rules. With Claire it did not feel like a game. She had made no efforts to impress him beyond be her own self. When she had walked out of Hurlingham on Sunday he did not get the impression that it was part of a facade to get his attention or the need to be the star of her very own soap opera. He had understood that she would leave, she had not expected him to chase after her, that had not been the goal of her leaving. 

++

They made easy light hearted conversation as the car ate up the miles. Claire about her week at work, about Louise, about Geillis. Jamie talked about the new pony he was thinking of buying, the one year old that someone was coming to look at on Saturday morning. Both of them studiously ignored the subject of Frank and his escalating intimidation and delusion. Jamie had an easy and laid back manner and unlike most people she knew was a genuinely good listener, never trying to steer the conversation back to himself or change the subject. His deep and very genuine chuckle when she told him about the ‘batcave’ discussion with Geillis and Louise made her smile and she could see why Jamie was so fatally attractive to so many women. Not only was he almost ridiculously good looking but he had little or no vanity, listened, was funny and thoughtful. Given her own recent dating disasters, she was sorely tempted to pinch herself to check he was real. Whilst not all of her romantic enterprises since Craig had gone quite so disastrously wrong as Frank, the the number of men who either were incredibly intimidated by her profession (she found bankers to be the worst for this, their fragile egos were legendary) or only interested in seeing themselves reflected in Claire, not seeing Claire for herself, greatly outweighed her dating successes. She had all but given up dating when she had met Frank, who at the start seemed so different. But Jamie, Jamie was something else. She was fully herself with him. He didn’t want her to be a certain way or downplay her own achievements for the sake of his. And now here she was, when she should be exercising caution after the way things turned out with Frank, heading off into the countryside to spend an isolated weekend with a man she had met only 7 days ago. Unaccustomed to such spontaneity in her adult life, dictated as it was by shifts and surgery schedules, the recklessness of it invigorated her. Despite everything that happened she hadn’t felt this free since before Uncle Lamb had packed her off to boarding citing the need for her to get some qualifications. 

After about an hour they turned off of the road and through a gate, after about half a mile of wood on both sides, the trees cleared and made way to a vast expanse of field. In the dimming light Claire could make out horses in fenced off paddocks and a field filled with sheep, pulling through a smaller gate and rolling over a cattle grid, they drove past a cobbled courtyard, with half doors open on all sides. 

“Those are the stables. They get the best view of the countryside and have both air conditioning and heating. The horses live better than I do.”

Driving round the back of the stables and Jamie pulled up in front of a house, that to Claire, used to London flats, seemed vast. Built on two floors out of yellow stone which was softly turning orange in the sunset, its mullioned windows and low sloping roof gave it immense charm, as did the heavy wooden front door, painted the same dark blue as both of Jamie’s cars. 

Seeing Claire looking from car to door, Jamie shrugged “it’s my favourite colour ye ken”   
“Is that because it brings out the colour of your eyes?” Claire joked back  
“Does it?” Jamie fixed her with said eyes in a manner which left Claire temporarily without retort.

The moment was interrupted by a female voice coming from the direction of the stables. 

“Jamie is that you?, Mr McCloud called back and he said he would be here about 10 tomorrow morning to have a look at Glitz. Losgann definitely needs some corrective shoeing, but otherwise the vet reckons she’s sound. Donas bit Sally Ann again and is she said that if it happens again you’ll and I quote “need to find a new vet for that fucking monster of a horse””

The speaker came to an abrupt standstill when she came around the corner and spotted the master of the house and his visitor. The woman was in her mid fifties, with tight curls, wearing a blue body warmer and wellington boots.

“Claire, this is my head groom. Mrs Glenna Fitzgibbon. Know to everyone for as long as I’ve known her as Lulu, though I dinna know why and she’s never seen fit to tell me. Alternatively she goes by Mrs Fitz, as ye prefer” Jamie smiled warmly at the older woman, who laughed up at him, patting him on his cheek in a motherly fashion.

“Aye laddie, I’ve known ye since ye were in nappies and there are some stories that are not for your ears, no matter how muckle ye get.”

“Mrs Fitz, this is my friend, Claire. She’ll be staying with us the weekend.”

Claire noticed Mrs Fitz’s eyes widen slightly, but she smiled kindly at Claire, before enveloping her in a huge hug.   
“Welcome to the Ridge dearie. Maybe having ye here with encourage this lad into having a break. He’s been working himself into the ground. Now, if ye’ll excuse me Jamie, I’ll be away to Mr Fitz, he’ll be sore wanting his dinner.”

As she walked away Jamie turned and getting a bunch of keys from his pocket opened the front door and held it open for her. Walking into the hallway, Claire could see why Jamie loved it here and was so adverse to life in the city. The ceilings were low and the walls were painted in a pale green which added warmth and exuded calming vibes. A former farm house, the rooms were light and airy. A city girl who loved the bustle of London and the noise and lights of the city, she had to admit there could be something to country life.

“I’ll take your bag up and show you where ye’ll be sleeping and then we’ll see about some dinner, aye?”

Following Jamie up a staircase which, with the exception of a shot of a dark haired woman and three small children, seemed to contain only pictures of polo and horses, they came to a stop outside a room. Jamie opened the door and bade her enter. Claire looked round in confusion. The room was lovely, nestled under the eaves, it had a queen size bed with a brass bedstead and a beautiful view out over the meadows. It was, however, quite clearly a guest room. And one that seldom actually held a guest judging my the stillness of the room and that undefined but nonetheless palpable air of a room which is infrequently entered.

“Oh, I…” Claire faltered unsure as to how to continuing and wondering if she had in fact misread Jamie badly.

Seeming to read her thoughts Jamie responded softly. “I didna want to assume anything, Claire. Just having you here, under my roof. Well, if that’s all that happens that will be enough for me right now. I dinna want to rush ya, not after…” He dropped the arm he was gesturing with, as he cut his sentence short without mentioning the name on the tip of his tongue. 

Claire smiled at him, and reached up and tucked a lock of fiery red hair behind his ear.

“Thank you, Jamie.”

 

Claire sat at the big scrubbed kitchen table as Jamie moved around the kitchen, chopping and sauteing. She was both surprised and pleased that he appeared to be at least a passable cook as she herself was fairly certain that she could burn water.

“My mam taught me. With Polo and before that the army and always being on the road. She said it was important that I should be able to cook when I was at home. She said that that is what would separate the place that was mine from all the other places, even if I was seldom there. And she was right. I always try and cook when I am at home, even if it's just for a night or two. It grounds me. It makes this home. Especially since it’s only me here.”

After a few more minutes of doing things to greens which Claire would never be able to replicate without the loss of a digit, dinner was served. Jamie placed a basket of bread between them and reaching up onto a shelf took down a bottle of red wine. Filling their glasses, he finally sat and lifting his glass, raised it to her, smiling. She reciprocated before taking a rather too large a gulp in order to try and dissipate the tension in the air, almost choked and more embarrassingly almost managed to spill red wine down herself, managing to stem in as it trickled down her chin with a napkin. Her face almost the same colour as the wine they were drinking, she mopped her chin and looked up to see Jamie grinning idiotically, trying heroically, but with limited success not to burst out laughing. She pulled a face at him and he gave up the fight, throwing his head back and laughing loudly. Deciding that they were probably past the point of coyness anyway, Claire joined in. From there, dinner was, thankfully without incident and after dinner, filling up their glasses, Jamie led her on a tour of the house and stables. 

Trailed by the dogs who seemed delight to both have Jamie and that he brought company, they strolled across the courtyard and into the stables. Some of the horses had been turned out for a few days rest but those that were set to play in the Challenge cup were confined to their boxes so avoid them blowing themselves out on grass. In addition a couple of horses from last weekend were on box rest, including Losgann who had just been reshoed and Glitz, a young chestnut criollo that had been born the previous year and was possibly going to John McCloud, a farmer from down the road who was looking for a good poly pony for his daughter who had just started playing for the Pony Club. 

The yard was, despite being home to horses and the paraphernalia that goes with that, one of the tidiest places she’d ever seen. Flowers in tubs were dotted around and not a single piece of straw littered the cobbles. Jamie showed her the tack room, which Claire joked looked like an S&M dungeon, a similarity which was highlighted further when Jamie identified some of the pieces of tack. Claire wasn’t sure what a throat latch was but it sounded vicious. 

After he had showed her the stables, of which he was clearly and rightly very proud, he led her to the fence of one of the paddocks. She could see half a dozen horses milling about. Jamie gave a whistle and the ears of all of them picked up and they turned and started thundering across the grass towards them. Despite the fence between them, Claire ducked behind Jamie in the face of several tonnes of horse careening towards them. Miraculously, all came safely to a stop at the fence. Extracting a handful of sugar lumps from his pocket, Jamie proceeded to feed the assembled ponies, chatting to them in good natured gaelic as he rubbed noses and scratched ears. Drawing Claire out from behind him he handed her a sugar lump and showing her how to hold it in the flat of her hand, encouraged a more timid pony who was hanging back slightly forward towards Claire.

“This is Thistle.” The timid little mare was sorrel in colour and her coat reminded her slightly of Jamie’s hair when the sun caught it. Thistle took the sugar cube in a gently curling lip. Claire laughed in delight and rubbed the little horse behind the ear as she had seen Jamie do.

“She’s adorable” Claire exclaimed.  
“Aye, she is. A little too green for polo I think, but a lovely horse that I havena been able to bring myself to part with. I bought her as part of a job lot from Malcolm Grant last time I was in Scotland. Can ye ride at all, Claire? Maybe ye could ride her this weekend?”

“I can ride, or at least I *Used* to be able to. It probably been a decade or more since I last rode a horse though”

“Ah, dinna fash, it’s like riding a bike, and if you have troubles, I’m a verra good rider.”

He winked at her in his strange but endearing two eyed wink and she laughed. 

“In that case, I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.” She turned back to Thistle “I will see you later, Lovely Girl”

As they walked back towards the house, Jamie took her hand. It was warm and dry and the way it totally encased her whole hand made her feel both incredibly safe but also slightly breathless. Whilst Jamie was an absolute dream, she also couldn’t deny the obvious. He was also sexy as hell and the more time she spent around him the more glad she was that Geillis and Louise had frog marched her into Boots on the way back to the hospital and insisted she buy a brand new box of condoms.

He led them round the back of the main house into a little garden. Here set just in the light of the kitchen window was a little bench set which looked out over the valley. The last streaks of orange and pink streaked the sky as the son finally set and Claire could just make out the dip and rise of the valley in front of her. Jamie re-appeared out of the kitchen, their wine glasses topped up.

“That’s why it’s called The Ridge. The way the valley crests and falls then crests again. The house sits right on the crest of the ridge. It’s why I chose it. The roll of the land makes it feel much wilder than it really is. It reminds me of the Highlands.”

Jamie sounded wistful.

“Do you miss it?”

“Oh Aye. I love the Highlands. The wildness of it, the mountains. Real ones, not like this, the rain, the lochs. All of it.”

“Then why do you live here? Is there no Polo in Scotland?”

“Aye, there is, though it requires much more travel and almost all the big cups are here in the south….”  
Claire sensed there was more and decided to gently push. She wanted to know him, she sensed a sadness, a distraction from him at sometimes and had wondered at its cause.

“But?”

He looked sidewise at her, smiling slightly.

“Aye, there’s a but. Lallybroch, that was my home, is a wonderful estate in the Highlands, it’s a working farm and stables now, but it goes back to the seventeenth century. Back then, it was part of a bigger holding known as Broch Tuarch, with the village Broch Morda, falling under its influence.”

“Laird Broch Tuarach.” Murmured Claire, thinking back to her first meeting with Minnie Grey.

“That’s the title that belonged to, still belongs to the land. The title that technically belongs to me since my Da passed three years ago. But I dinna use it and my sister Jenny and her husband live at Lallybroch now”

Claire moved closer on the bench, wanting to bring him comfort but unsure where to start given his pain was clearly raw, but as yet undefined. 

“What happened to him, Jamie?” She spoke gently.

“He died because of me. Because of my arrogance. My willfulness. He died because I wouldna listen to good advice when I was given it.”

He blurted this out standing and walking away from her as he spoke. He moved out of the light of the window and stood alone in the shadows.

Claire rose and approached him slowly.

“Jamie.” She rested her cheek against the broad plain of his back, bringing her arms around his waist. “Jamie, what happened? Talk to me.”

Claire could feel the tension running through him and she turned and kissed him lightly between his shoulder blades. He shuddered and she felt him relax ever so slightly.

“It was before I was shipped off wi’ the Army. I had just re-signed into my regiment. My Da’ had asked me not to. He wanted me to leave the army and come home to Lallybroch. Play Polo, learn the the business of running the estate. But I didna listen. I was living the life of a gentleman officer, I loved the job. And then we went to war and I learned the hard way there is no glamour in being a soldier.”

He went quiet again, and she thought maybe he had finished. As she was about to respond he spoke again

“I was on HMS Ardent when it was hit. I was evacuated out, so luckier than many, but I had so much shrapnel in my back that it looked like I’d been through a meat grinder. My father got the notice through and dropped to the floor wi’ a stroke. He never came round. No one told me for three weeks. Whilst my back was mince, my mental state was worse. My sister came with Minnie Grey to break the news. He died cos I thought soldiering was fun. Until I had to go and fight a real war and I saw it for all its violent, pointless vainglory.”

“Jamie” she whispered “thank you for telling me”

 

He’d laid himself bear to her. He hadn’t intended to, his pain was deep and it was private and most of all it was the penance he paid. For his naivete about what war really was, for his arrogance that he wanted to see glory and be decorated for it, for his irresponsibility that he had sought to have a few more years before he took up his birthright and responsibilities at Lallybroch. He had expected judgement, he had expected her to do what Minnie and John and Jenny and Ian and Hal and Mrs Fitz had all done before and tell him not to blame himself and that he should let it go. Instead she had simply thanked him and held him tighter. The power of her small arms around his massive frame making him feel shrouded in safety and understanding. They stood for a few more minutes like that before he took her hands in his and turned to face her. 

“Whilst I’m in heavy confessional mode, I need to show you something.”

He led her back through the kitchen door and stepping away from her, began to unbutton his shirt. She nodded slightly in understanding and he slipped his shirt off and threw onto the table. He turned away from her and waited. Waited for the gasp of horror, of pity. Waited for a noise of disgust or fear. Instead he felt the soft warmth of her fingertips against the hard raised ridges that covered him almost from waist to neck. She traced them gently, before placing a soft kiss at the centre of his back.

“You are so beautiful, Jamie.”

He turned to face her then, looking for the lie in her eyes, the cover, but saw nothing but her seeing him. As he was. Not Jamie Fraser, Polo Star. Not James Fraser, Laird Broch Taurach, Not Lieutenant JAMM Fraser, wounded soldier. Just him, Jamie. He felt a single tear slide down his face and he palmed it away, trying to get a rein on his emotions. Reaching for her she stepped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, he buried his face in her hair, it smelt of antiseptic and citrus fruit, it smelt of sunshine. He ran his hands softly up and down her back as if trying to memorise the feel of her the shape of her. She tilted her head towards him.

“Kiss me, Jamie.”

And so he did.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire come to some realisations

ROVI

 

Jamie wasn’t sure what woke him. He came to slowly, a gradual swim towards the surface of wakefulness. As he woke pieces slotted into place. In bed, but not his own. His eyes became accustomed to the grey light of the early dawn that had begun to infiltrate the room courtesy of the too thin curtains. He was in the spare room and he could hear the sound of soft breathing that was also not his own. Claire. Turning, he saw the mass of her curls on the pillow and spilling over her face. The cover pulled up to her waist, he could just make out the shape of her, hip and breast, gently rising and falling like the valley made flesh. Last night. When he had brought her to his inner sanctum and not only given her the gift of his private space but had unburdened himself to her with an ease and eagerness that surprised him even now. And she had taken that damage to his soul, to his psyche, and asked him to kiss her. 

He had kissed her before, but not like that. Their previous kisses had either been chaste and teasing or full blooded desire. This kiss was neither and both. It was at once soft and tender and full of raging fire. There was no frantic passion, no mindless touching and wanting, instead there was tenderness and deliberation. Their hands on each other both gentle and demanding, their lips moving slowly but deeply. He had laid his pain bare and she had responded with herself. She had seen the gaping wound in his soul, that time had made no move to heal and she had stoppered it with all she had. Her words, her actions. Her lack of judgement, her gentle acceptance. She had not sought to mend him and in doing so had poured gentle balm over the itching, constant rawness. His tongue touched hers and the fire was lit in his belly. The warmth moved through him, making him tingle. He was aware of everything. The softness of the curl that tickled his cheek, the gentleness of her fingers on the nape of his neck, the hand tangled in his hair. He could feel the curve of her back where his hand sought to pull her closer and the softness of her as pressed against his front leaving no room any doubt as to his physical reactions to her. 

 

She had taken his hand and led him up the stairs, their progress impossibly slow as they stopped to kiss, to touch. On reaching the landing she had pulled him through the door to his own spare room. A room at once familiar but strange, an unvisited and oft forgotten part of his home which suddenly seemed gloriously present. 

\-----

She faltered then, her bravado running out of steam just beyond the threshold of the door. The tenderness and desire that had driven her to lead him up the stairs departing suddenly leaving her vulnerable and exposed. He reached out a hand to her and drew her close, a kiss falling on the top of her head.   
“Mo Nighean Donn’ She heard him murmur. Then his lips were on hers again and her nerves forgotten in the rightness of him. He felt right under her hands. The shape of him fitting against her. She broke their kiss and stepped back, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. She could see him swallow as he took her in and without breaking eye contact she slowly slid the straps of her dress from her shoulder until she stood there in front of him in only her pants and bra. The silence was almost deafening.

“Will you say something?” she muttered when the silence seemed to have gone on too long.

“Claire. Claire” he took a faltering step towards her, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen”

He kissed her again then and her hands came from around his neck. She traced a route across his chest and over his taut belly, scratching gently with her fingernails as she did so, relishing the way the flesh goose bumped as she did and the sudden intake of breath as she reached the waistband of his trousers. She slowly undid the button and her groaned into her ear.  
“Claire”

The way he moaned her name sent ripples through her as she eased his jeans down. He was bare underneath and she could feel his need, strong and hard against her stomach. It was her turn to groan. 

“I want you.” he murmured into her ear. “I want you so much I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?”

He moved his head back slightly, looking her in the eye with a direct but slightly off focus stare, his eyes so dark with need they seemed to be all pupil. His breath was coming fast and his voice shook slightly.

“Yes, Jamie. Yes I’ll have you” They held the look for a beat, the mutual desire and want sparking between them. They were so close she could feel the heat of his body even though they were not quite touching. And then he kissed her again and lifted her onto the bed. His fingers on the elastic of her knickers caused her breath to catch once again and her hips lifted towards him of their own accord. He slid the navy blue cotton and lace down her legs, kissing her stomach gently before returning to her head. Her hands roamed over his powerful shoulders, down his back before taking a firm grasp of his behind, pulling him flush against her. 

Jamie was torn. Part of him wanted to take this oh so slowly, to kiss and savour every inch of this miraculous woman. The other part of his wanted to simply bury himself in her and be lost. It was clear from how Claire wriggled below him that she was of the latter viewpoint. His hands shook as he brushed a girl from her face and he raised himself slightly on his arms to see her better. The sight of her, flushed and panting below him, her wild hair fanned out beneath her and the soft ivory of her skin glowing decided things. Shifting slightly he positioned himself over her and she reached down and guided him home. 

Jamie had had women before, but this was something else. Something new. For a moment he could not move as he tried to reign in the feelings both physical and emotional that coursed through him. Claire was similarly thunderstruck, the feelings flashing across her glass face. After a moment, Jamie began to move. Gently at first. A question to be answered. And answer Claire did. Grasping him to her, lips frantically seeking his, she rocked back against him, her skin almost feverish against his. He moved with more deliberation now, but kept the pace slow. His whole body felt like it was lit from within, as they moved together, gasping, shuddering, kissing anything they could reach. She wrapped her legs around his drawing him closer, making him falter for a moment, lost in the sensation. It was at once both frantic and needy but gentle and tender. He felt the rhythm of her change beneath his and she approached the edge of the cliff and only now did he move faster. He could feel his own climax building and slowed again, trying to hold back.

“No, Jamie,” Claire murmured “come to me, Jamie.” He did as she bid. As he let himself go, he could feel her tumble over the edge, the feeling enhancing his own, so intense for a moment he was literally seeing stars. 

He rolled off of her, pulling her into his arms and they lay there savouring each other in the growing dark. She reached out and touched his face gently and he sighed. There was silence for a long time.  
Eventually Jamie spoke, his voice soft. “You’re a rare woman, Sassanach” She laughed quietly and kissed him on the nose. 

\----

 

Claire stretched herself out as she floated towards consciousness. She could feel a slight stiffness in her thighs, an artefact of last night. The sun was fully up and streaming into the room. There was no sign of Jamie but the whinnying of horses and the sound of voices which carried across the quiet was evidence of life and activity elsewhere. Getting out of bed, she searched for the bathroom and found it located halfway down the hall. Stepping into the shower she caressed herself as she replayed the previous night in her head. Whatever she had expected it wasn’t that. She knew she liked Jamie and that their bond might be something, *more* but she hadn’t expected him to be so open. To bare his pain to her with such candor. Her heart squeezed a little at the thought of the scars that he carried, both on his back and in his soul. She had wanted nothing more than to comfort him. To let him see her as he had let her see him. When he had made love to her, that had been just what it was. There was no other phrase that came close to describing what had happened between them. It had been tender, honest and transformative. It also had been really fucking good. Claire liked sex, but something about Jamie had moved beyond simple enjoyment. He had unmoored her, leaving her both at once utterly secure and dizzy makingly confused. Jamie had quite literally swept into her life and upended it. Just over a week ago she didn’t even know his name and now here she was, in his shower, after a night that had made a crack in the foundations of her life and world. The connection she felt to Jamie both terrified and exhilarated her. She had known him so little time, the legion of ‘other women’ waiting in the wings, the very fundamental differences in their backgrounds and lives. And yet. The past week, even with all the drama with Frank made her feel more alive than she ever had. That his world was so incredibly foreign to hers only heightened the sense of somehow having stepped out of her own real world and into some kind of story book. They had made love until the early hours. If first time had been transformative, the times after that had been, in turns, more languorous and more frantic had unmoored her. She felt alive in a way she had never felt before. Like she was connected to the very fabric of the universe, sensations heightened, her feelings swimming so close to the surface she felt almost like she was vibrating with it. She had never felt better. She looked at herself in the mirror as the steam cleared in the bathroom and found herself almost surprised that, with the exception of a hint of flushed excitement and a distinct gleam in her eyes, she looked the same. She splashed water on her face as she came to a realisation. She was head over heels in love with him. 

 

Jamie moved from stall to stall chatting to the horses as he checked them. Despite having a team of three grooms who could easily do this for him, it was something he enjoyed. Like cooking it was one of the things that grounded him and made The Ridge home for him, not one of the faceless stalls on the Polo grounds of Europe and America. He chatted to each horse as he went, a mixture of gaelic and english. Nonsense mostly, designed purely to comfort and soothe. The voices of the grooms chatting both to each other and the horses drifted over him and he felt both a feeling of innate belonging and intense separateness. In his mind, he was still tucked up in the guest room with Claire and he felt his face split into a grin at the thought of her. “Jesus, Jamie, ye’re like a love sick teenager.” Rather than pull him together, this only made him smile more. “Aye, lass” he murmured to himself “ye have me under your spell, and happy to be there”. Giving the horse one last pat to the neck he turned back towards the house.

As he entered the kitchen he smelled the comforting smell of buttery toast but no sign of human inhabitation. Going through the open back door, he discovered Claire sitting on the wall, plate of toast and a mug of something hot beside her. She was wearing the plain blue button down he’d been wearing the night before and her hair was still shower damp. He stood silently watching her for a moment and when she lifted her face, eyes closed towards the warmth of the sun he was almost flattened, not only by want of her, but also how well she seemed to fit here. The morning sun, catching her hair turning it red and gold, the breeze lifting the damp curls. He caught his breath as the realisation that what he felt became clear to him. He was not merely attracted to this woman. He was in love with her. He suddenly knew with extreme clarity what Brian Fraser had been talking about when he took a sixteen year old Jamie aside and told him that one day he would take a woman to his bed who he loved and that it would eclipse all else. He had been sceptical then. He was not now.

He must have made a sound and she opened her eyes and turned towards him, a smile lighting her face.

“Good morning. I hope you don’t mind me helping myself, I was starved.”

“Not at all lass, I want you to make yourself at home here”

“Thank you Jamie, for everything. I hadn’t really realised how tense I felt all week in the city until I came here and could just..” she gestured into the air, “let it all go”

“Well, I’m verra glad to hear that, Claire and you’re welcome. And thank you.” He left the rest unspoken and she met his gaze and nodded, before moving her plate and mug and patting the wall beside her. He joined her gazing out over the valley and her head rested against his arm. Shifting slightly, he moved and put an arm around her, pulling her closer to him. She passed him the plate which still had a slice of thick white toast sitting on it and they ate in companionable silence.

The rest of the weekend passed serenely. Claire laid on the overstuffed sofa reading whilst Jamie met with Glitz’s potential buyer. Returning an hour later, the deal done, he was once again jolted by how right it seemed having her here. After two years at the Ridge he could count the number of people he’d had in the house on his hands and never had he felt like any of them truly belonged in his much protected space. But there was something about Claire. He took a minute to watch her, sprawled out on the chintz that he had inherited from the previous owner and never gotten around to replacing, holding her book at arms length, legs swung up onto the sofa back. 

“Are ye comfy there, Sassenach?” He asked her with a smile.

“I have assimilated with the sofa” came the reply. “It has accepted me as one of its own”

Jamie laughed and the sound seemed almost strange to him. He realised then, the Ridge might have been his sanctuary but it had seen very little real joy. Until now.

“Well then my Sofa Sassenach, ye have two choices, ye can remain at one wi’ the soft furnishing or ye can come out for a ride wi me and Thistle. Entirely your choice of course”

Claire swung her feet down and returned to an upright position. “The sofa will miss me, but I did promise Thistle” He held out a hand to help her up, pulling her towards him and into a kiss as he did so. “Though,” she replied when the kiss finally ended, “Maybe not quite yet” She pulled him back towards her, her hands travelling under his shirt. He groaned into her mouth at the feeling of her warm hands on his bare skin. His own hands roved down, skimming her bum, which he loved so much. Shifting he deepened the kiss.

“Aye, perhaps later”

It was Sunday morning before Thistle got her ride out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire head to Royal Ascot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for Lauren who pointed out that my last chapter dropped on the first day of Royal Ascot and made me realise that Jamie and Claire ABSOLUTELY needed to be there. Thanks for the plot bunny!

Jamie dropped Claire off at the hospital on Monday morning on his way to Epsom Polo Club where he was playing in a charity match with the Grey brothers and Hal’s eldest daughter Dottie, who had just turned 19 and was playing in her first medium goal match. Pulling the range rover up by the curb he kissed her soundly and at length, only breaking away when a knocking on the passenger side window made them both jump. Turning round, they found Geillis and Louise cackling wildly and clutching each other. Claire fixed them both with an imperious glare before turning back to Jamie, deliberately squaring her back away from them.

“Thank you, Jamie. For this weekend, it was wonderful”

He returned her smile, leaning forward to kiss her again, ignoring the renewed heckling from outside the car. 

“Any time, Sassenach. I’m playing at Ham this weekend if ye would like to come along. Tis no too far away. I also believe a certain Frenchman will be there, if ye wanna bring the other two Weird Sisters wi’ ye. He nodded towards where Louise and Geillis were performing a deliberate waltz with much clutching of each other.

“Well, I would certainly love to come. As for those two. If I haven’t murdered them both, I’ll see what they are doing.”

With one final kiss, Claire hopped out of the car. She watched as Jamie pulled away and drove round the corner before rounding on Geillis and Louise who backed away laughing. 

“I take it the weekend with the Viking went well then, aye?” Questioned Geillis 

“Are you blushing, Claire?” Louise came within about 3 inches of Claire’s face. “Oh my god, you ARE! Claire ‘Ice Queen’ Beauchamp is blushing over a man!” Geillis and Louise’s cackling renewed anew as Claire tried and spectacularly failed to look affronted.

“Lunchtime, the Cafe. 1pm” Geillis announced in a voice that brooked no discussion. Claire nodded, shouldering her handbag and weekend bag into a more comfortable position.   
“See you then.” Geillis nodded curtly before swiveling on her four inch heel and marching down the street towards her office. Louise appeared at Claire’s otherside and linked her arm through Claire’s free one. “I won’t make you tell me the whole story now, but I take it you had a good time?” She raised her eyebrow at Claire, who blushed again and Louise laughed and kissed Claire on the cheek.

“I’m delighted for you, Claire”

 

Claire pushed open the door of the cafe at 1.05 and Geillis nearly shot out of her seat and it was obvious that she had been sitting in anticipation both from her demeanour and the empty coffee cup in front of her that she had been there a while.

“About time, I thought ye were never coming.” She declared as Claire approached the table with Louise bringing up the rear. 

“Geillie, its five past one”

“Aye, but I could hardly get a thing done, wi wondering about what ye got up to. Ye have been fierce shady since you met Jamie Fraser and now it's time for you to spill it all. Tis only fair. If it werna for me, ye wouldna have met him and you owe it to your friends to TELL ALL”. The last two words were spoken in a tone that was half threat, half wheedling. Claire laughed as she sat, half trying to work out just what she was willing to share. She loved Geillis but discreet she was not. In the end, Claire opted to give them the edited highlights, the showdown with Frank, the gorgeous house and yard, the ecstatic lovemaking. Geillis and Louise cackled, sighed and whooped in delight at Claire’s story. She deliberately made no mention of Jamie’s confession nor his physical scars. He had opened up to her from a place of vulnerability and trust and she wouldn’t betray that, not even for her closest friends.

 

The rest of Claire’s day went by in a flurry of surgeries and paperwork. She walked home allowing herself the luxury of time just to think about Jamie and the weekend that they had shared. In the space of ten days her life had been transformed. She arrived home in time to hear the phone ringing and rushed down the hall, catching it just before it rolled over to the answering machine.

“Sassenach!” came the voice from the other end. Her stomach flipped a little at the sound of his voice. “I canna speak long I am in a telephone box just outside of outside of Epsom. I have to take Archimedes home as he knocked his canon bone and the vet is meeting me at the Ridge.”

“Oh I am sorry, Jamie. I hope it’s not too serious.” 

“It willna amount to much, I think, but better safe than sorry. Anyway Sassenach, the real reason I’m ringing. I’d clear forgotten that Wednesday is Royal Ascot. Would ye like to come? It wouldna be until the afternoon?”

Claire thumbed through her diary which was kept on the shelf next to the phone. 

“You’re in luck. I’m on earlies tomorrow and Wednesday then I am on Nights Thursday and Friday. But Jamie, I’m not actually sure I have anything suitable to wear.” Claire had never been anywhere as fancy as Ascot, but was fairly certain that given the people Jamie spent time with on the Polo scene she would be called upon to bring out the big guns. The problem was that Claire owned two hats. The felt fedora she had worn to Hurlingham and a straw beach hat. She was pretty certain neither of these would suffice. 

“Would ya mind if I got Minnie Grey to give you a call? She’s probably be better set than me to steer you right on that front.”

Having agreed to this and made arrangements for Jamie to collect her at noon on Wednesday, she rang off. Looking round the apartment that had been largely unoccupied since prior to Frank’s unscheduled appearance the previous weekend, she shuddered slightly and then pulled herself together. Deciding that she needed to at least do something useful whilst she mooned around thinking about Jamie, she loaded up the washing machine with her laundry and then set to dusting her flat. So engrossed was she in her task that she almost hit the ceiling she jumped so much at the sound of the doorbell. Making her way cautiously to the front door she looked through the spy hole. She still wasn’t entirely certain Frank wouldn’t turn up again. However, there on the front steps, surrounded by hat boxes and bags was the formidable figure of Minnie Grey.

 

Jamie drove away from the hospital, smiling to himself. In the space of a few days he felt like a new man. He would never be the same man he was before the war, before Brian, but for the first time since then he felt some measure of contentment. Optimism that the future held something worthwhile beyond just Polo, much as he loved it. Claire was so unlike anyone he had met before. He had heard people described as a force of nature before, but never really understood what that meant. He did now. She was so confident and easy going. She was funny and self depreciating. So real. It really made him see how phoney so much of the polo scene was. There were good eggs of course, like the Greys and a number of others, but the scene itself was superficial and it made people act that way. He had always quite liked that in the past. It helped him maintain distance. But now he felt the full weight of what it was to feel connected to another human being. To crave them like air. Before all he would have been thinking about on the way to a match, even a charity match like this, would have been horses and game play. Now all he seemed to think of was Claire.

He pulled in and headed straight for the pony lines. His horses had been driven down by Mrs Fitz and Young Alec and they were busy tacking them up when he arrived. Resting his top flight horses for the upcoming Deauville tournament he had brought four of his younger ponies. Still fine animals my the standards of most, he stopped for a moment and admired them. He knew he couldn't play professional polo forever and hoped that when he finally gave that up that he would be able to run a training yard. There were few happier or better schooled ponies in the sport, something which Jamie was mightily proud of. John Grey was standing at the pony lines talking to his partner Hector and rolling his eyes at his brother Hal who was yelling in turns into a car telephone and at his eldest daughter who was holding a riding crop and rolling her eyes right back.   
“Dottie, in her excitement forgot to load the right bit for Wattiswade. As always my brother is less than quick to forgive and is now in the Phone to poor Billy back at the stables giving him grief for not double checking what Dottie was doing.”

“That seems verra unlike Dottie” came Jamie’s reply. “She’s usually verra thorough.”

“Yes, well, it seemed that this match has coincided with Dottie becoming infatuated with the local vet, Denny Hunter. Let's just say it has her somewhat distracted as a result.”   
Jamie laughed but made no comment, sayings about glasshouses and stones seeming highly relevant in that moment. Two weeks ago, Jamie would have been rolling his eyes with the rest and talking about puppy love, but having very recently found himself smitten to the point of distraction, he found himself empathising with Dottie’s plight.

“And what about you, Fraser?” No one had heard hide nor hair of you since last Thursday. Rupert told me you cancelled a stick and balling session you had scheduled. Does this have anything to do with a certain curly haired doctor that seems to have come out of nowhere and done the seemingly impossible and captured the heart of Jamie Fraser?” Both John and Hector were smirking and Jamie was mortified to find himself blushing slightly. 

“It's none of your business” Jamie responded but he couldn't help the tell of the smile that inevitably appeared on his face when he thought about Claire. John laughed and clapped him on the back. 

“All the best to you my friend. I can tell you how long it's been since I saw you look truly happy”

The polo was fun and untaxing. The Greys and Jamie came out the winners by a considerable margin despite Dottie only having a zero handicap and the opposing team all being regulars on the medium and high goal circuits. As it was a charity event, there was a ticket only luncheon to follow and the whole thing was laid back in a way that competitive matches seldom were in even in their aftermath. Jamie sat at a table between John and Minnie Grey, very slowly sipping scotch and letting the world wash over him. He was vaguely aware of a pretty if slightly commonplace blonde who walked past their table to and from the bathroom more times that were probably warranted and of the Dunsanys at the next table, who knowing everyone on Jamie’s table well, bantered back and forth with them. The exception to this was Geneva who instead settled for throwing Jamie very hot glances to the point that after returning from the bathroom he asked Hector to swap seats with him in order to no longer be in her eyeline. He missed Claire. Despite the fact that she had been in his bed and his arms not 12 hours earlier he felt a longing for her that belied that fact. In fact he had clearly drifted off into his own thoughts as he was brought back into the room by Minnie calling his name whilst John, Hal, Hector and David Franklin, a friend of Hal’s and a polo enthusiast, laughed.  
“Jamie, have you been listening to a word I have been saying? I was asking about Ascot on Wednesday. Are you going with Colum and the Leoch group or should be save you space in the box?”

“Err, aye, I think Colum is going but I canna cope with a day of Dougal needling and scheming. I get enough of that when we play. If it's alright with you, Minnie, I’ll take you up on the offer,”

“And will you be bringing Claire?” Minnie’s voice and demeanor were casual which in Minnie’s case was a dead give away that she was angling for information.

“I dinna ken. I’ll certainly ask her, but it maybe that she’s working. She has a very important job” Jamie didn't even try and keep the pride out of his voice and it was lost on no one around the table who knew him. Before he could be grilled further, Mrs Fitz had appeared telling him that Archimedes’ leg had swollen and he’d made his excuses and left, stopping only to call Claire and then Minnie, who seemed delighted at the chance to escape the lunch and said she would get in touch with Claire immediately asking for both her phone number and address.

 

When Jamie collected Claire at noon the next day it was uncertain who was more speechless at the sight of the other. Claire, under the careful eye and hand of Minnie Grey was dressed in a soft powder blue midi dress with a gauzy overlay and her curls neatly restrained under a blue hat. Jamie for his part was dressed in his morning suit, his top hat under his arm.

Claire giggled slightly as she approached him ‘You look like the bride groom’. She then blushed furiously at the implication, but Jamie simply smiled. “If the bride were half as beautiful as you I’d be a verra lucky man, aye?’ They both stared at each other for a moment slightly goofily. It was Jamie who pulled himself together first. He opened the passenger door of his car for her and she very carefully, in an attempt to navigate the extra height provided by the hat, climbed inside.

 

Royal Ascot was like nothing Claire had ever seen before. Men in morning suits and top hats, women dressed to the nines in hats of all shapes and sizes, some so massive Claire had no idea how they walked or maneuvered in them. Jamie seemed to know everyone and it took them a good half an hour to finally arrive at the Royal Enclosure. Fumbling in his pocket, he handed a pass to Claire and they entered. Taking Claire by the hand he led her over to a group which included the Greys, Dougal McKenzie and a young blonde woman that Claire had not seen before. Everyone turned to greet them, Dottie Grey exclaiming in delight at Claire’s outfit, whilst Minne smiled. Hector, John and Hal all kissed her and even Dougal, who she had last seen fighting with his mistress at Hurlingham was charm himself. He introduced the blonde, to Jamie and Claire as his wife’s niece Laoghaire. She ran a dismissive eye over Claire turning then to Jamie with a great deal more enthusiasm.

“Jamie Fraser!” She practically yelled causing people in the groups surrounding them to turn around and look, John to grimace and Jamie to look uncomfortable. “I am such a fan. I have been following your career. You’ve done so well.” She placed a hand on Jamie’s arm in a vaguely proprietary way causing Jamie to take a step back. Claire heard a slight snigger that she was almost certain came from Dottie. The blonde however was made of sterner stuff and carried on regardless.   
“I play a little myself, low goal mostly, though I played a lot with the Pony Club when I was younger. Maybe ye’d do me the honor of playing a few chukkas with me, I’m sure ye’d have all kind of tips for how I could improve my game.” The final statement was made with a tone so laden with innuendo that even Dougal looked uncomfortable. Making his excuses, he ushered Laoghaire away and the entire party that remained turned to look at Jamie. There was a moment of silence while everyone tried to work out what they should say, which was finally broken by Claire starting to laugh. Jamie drew her close to him, though his ability to lay a kiss on the top of her head was much impeded by her hat and he settled for raising her hand to his lips. Claire turned and looked at him from under her hat. The moment when on a while and when they finally remembered where they were Minnie and Dottie were smiling dreamily, Hector and John were smirking and Hal, not known for his tact was openly laughing. Claire felt the heat rise in her face and considered the fact that in the space of the week she had devolved from having nerves of steel to a blushing love sick teenager. Her thought was mirrored as Jamie murmured out of the side of his mouth to her   
“Jesus God, Sassenach, if you keep making me blush like this I willna have any blood left to go elsewhere”  
She snorted loudly at this which caused them both to laugh. The moment was interrupted by John announcing that the first race was due to start any moment and that they should retire to the box.

Claire had been to the races before and this was nothing like that. First of all, it was very clear from the moment they stepped in the box that almost everyone there took racing very seriously indeed. There was much discussion on the horses set to compete in each of the races, with so and so being this one’s sire and this one’s dam being such and such a former champion. Only when each horse had been thoroughly investigated did bets get placed and then each match was watched with eagle eyed intensity. Claire watched with a certain amount of detachment. She had nothing to offer the discussions, she as a rule on the odd occasion she had placed a bet on the horses generally used names and jockey colours to aid her choice. She was happy watching them though. The impassioned discussions, the excitement of watching a winner romp home. She watched the Greys. So intensely proper (with the possible exception of Minnie and Dottie who definitely had something of the firebrand in them both), straight backed, with clean cut features. But mostly she watched Jamie. He couldn’t have been more different from the Greys. His fiery red hair and towering height being most obvious. His strong accent which seemed undiluted despite his years in England both as a player and in the Army, the hint of scruff that contrasted the clean cut faces around him. Claire also had time to drink quite a lot of champagne and was feeling very pleasantly lightheaded. She was also grateful when Jamie, during a break in the races, brought her a plate of food. 

“Peace offering. I’m sorry if I have been neglecting you, I ken we get a little carried away.” Claire smiled and shrugged.   
“I’ve enjoyed watching you all. When I used to travel with my uncle one of the things I enjoyed most was observing the social rituals of different societies.” Jamie laughed at this. 

“Well, I’m sure watching Hal and John argue over whether Borneo Dream was sired by Edinburgh Quicksilver or Franklin’s Revenge was verra educational, Sassenach. Would you like to take a walk? Ye canna be cooped up in a box with a load of horse obsessed polo players at yer first Royal Ascot”

Jamie and Claire walked the grounds. They spoke little, content to watch the people around them as they went about their business. It was easy to spot the serious race goers from those who simply enjoyed the social aspect. The former tended to be looking down, examining race cards, speaking in low voices. The latter were looking around, seeing who else was there to be seen and chattering non stop. As they rounded back towards the Royal Enclosure, a figure stepped out quickly in front of them.   
“Jamie, darling. Where *have* you been hiding yourself. Everyone has been saying its not Ascot without Jamie Fraser and turns out you were here all along!”   
The figure leaned forward wrestling Jamie into an awkward air kiss in which her giant pink hat knocked Jamie’s top hat off. Claire caught it deftly and handed it back to Jamie. At this point the figure seemed to notice Claire for the first time, looking her appraisingly up and down. 

“Amazing outfit! Isabella Rutherford looked at that same outfit but when she went back, it had gone and now we know why! I’m Francesca Lowry-Bardham.” She leaned forward and this time being more careful kissed the air on either side of Claire.

“Claire Beauchamp, nice to meet you”

“Well, my darlings, I must get back. Isabel is attempting as we speak to break out of the dreadfully boring box she and her family are in so we can go and haunt the Taitingger tent. Toodle oo”

Francesca sailed away, resplendent in hot pink, her path impeded neither by the enormity of her hat or the height of her heels. 

“She seemed nice” Claire commented.

“Oh aye, Chessie is a gem. A verra good friend of Isabel Dunsany and Dottie Grey. She’s a lovely person but a frightful gossip. If ye werena the talk of the racecourse already, you will be the second she gets back to her friends.” Claire looked mildly alarmed by this, but Jamie shrugged. “One thing about the ‘polo set’ for lack of a better word, is its verra insular. People know each other and they know everyone’s business and any newcomer is of intense interest purely cos they’re new. They’ll have something else to talk about next week. Plus its Royal Ascot, never a shortage of other gossip.”

Claire tried and failed to feel comforted by this. As much as she felt for Jamie and how nice those he considered ‘his people’ were, the fact was that Claire was definitely a stranger in a strange land and she vaguely wondered if she would ever not find herself feeling ever so slightly outside of it all.  
\----

Jamie was torn. On the one hand in wanted the world to see him with Claire. She was the most amazing woman he had ever met and he wanted to show her off. Having her on his arm made him feel about a hundred feet tall. On the other hand he knew the world he belonged to and with the memory of her flight from the Hurlingham Club still fresh in his mind he was also loathe to expose her to the superficiality, gossip and at times downright viciousness of the world in inhabited. The women in particular, few of them bad people but many of them bored and cosseted, were unwelcoming of outsiders, shoring themselves up behind their ancestry and their Mayfair wardrobes. Many of them were only a few years out from the debutante circuit, which conditioned competitiveness with even their closest friends. They had very little to occupy their time whilst they sat around and waiting to get married. In many ways he felt very sorry for them, trapped as they were by position and the norms of their social world of finishing school, debs circuit and marriage, which alarmingly few seemed to truly be able to escape, but not enough that he wanted Claire to have to come up against them.

When Chessie Lowry-Bardham had come upon them he had mixed feelings. On the one hand Chessie really was a lovely girl, only a few years younger than him, he had known her for a long time. But he also hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Claire she was a gossip. Known as “Radio Surrey” she was addicted to gossip, generally knew everything about everyone and was definitely, at this very moment, regalling Isabel and whoever else was there with all the details on ‘Jamie Fraser’s girlfriend in the outfit she stole from Isabella Rutherford’. Still, he figured, Claire was made of stern stuff. And he would be there to protect her. 

As Jamie and Claire drove away from the racecourse towards Minnie and Hal’s house, they chatted idly. Claire was looking forward to getting changed and ditching her hat which after 7 hours was now sticking into her head painfully. Minnie had also helped her pick out an outfit for the dinner party she and Hal hosted every year after the first day of the races. The event was cocktail rather than evening attire as Minnie always claimed that after a day spent in morning suits and hats no one really wanted to wear ball gowns and tuxedos but nonetheless, it was from the way Jamie told it, quite the social event.

On arrival, Dottie swept Claire off to a room where she could freshen up and change whilst Jamie did likewise. Coming out of the room half an hour later, wearing a navy blue dress and strappy heels, she was almost stopped in her tracks by the figure of Jamie at the foot of the stairs. Dressed in a simple blue suit, his slightly in need of cutting hair resting at his collar, he was quite simply the most beautiful human being she had ever seen. He was leaning casually against the bannister and she could only marvel at the splendour of his jaw and how truly spectacular his face was in repose. His colouring was flattered by the blue of the suit which brought out the colour of both his hair and eyes and showed off his powerfully built figure in ways that made Claire feel weak at the knees. He had left the tie off which gave him a slightly dishevelled look that reminded Claire of what he looked like when they made love and she felt a slight flutter in her stomach which was echoed slightly lower. Becoming aware of the scrutiny Jamie looked up as she walked down the stairs, a huge smile blossoming on his face. He climbed the last few stairs to meet her and taking her in his arms kissed her thoroughly.   
“Ye look stunning Mo Nighean Donn.” he murmured into her ear.

“You’re looking pretty damn good yourself, Fraser” she replied. “Its all I can do to stop myself dragging you into a secluded corner somewhere”  
Jamie groaned slightly his hand on the small of his back pulling her fractionally closer to him. “Dinna tempt me, Sassenach”

“Do you need to go back to the Ridge tonight? Can you stay with me?” He kissed her again.

“Wild horses couldna stop me”

 

There were close to a hundred people at what Minnie had sold to her as a ‘small gathering’. Pre dinner cocktails lasted until almost 9:30. At one point Claire heard Minnie instructing the butler to “add more orange juice to the bucks fizz” as Dominic Carlow, a friend of John and Jamie’s who played for the Revlon team had just fallen into the ornamental fish pond.

As they finally were seated for dinner they found themselves at a table with a number of other polo player and their wives and girlfriends. Amongst them were Jamie’s teammates Rupert and Willie who they had seen briefly at the racecourse. Both seemed delighted to see Jamie and whilst Claire did not miss the look they gave each other when Jamie introduced her as his girlfriend they were both charm itself.

After dinner came dancing and Jamie showed himself to have as much coordination on the dance floor as he did on a pony. They danced solidly for an hour until Rupert appeared and cut in and Jamie headed off towards the bathroom with the assurance he would be right back to rescue her from Rupert and his two left feet. 

 

Jamie was still laughing as he left the ballroom and headed left down a long corridor towards the lavatory. Claire was proving a success with the people that mattered and after impressing Rupert with a wide ranging repartee of dirty jokes, it was clear that she could more than hold her own with the players.

Leaving the room after washing his hands he ran smack bang into another person. Putting out both hands to steady them and going to apologise profusely. Stepping back her realised that the person was none other than Geneva. Her chestnut hair was worn long and straight and her dress seemed to include a lot of baby pink tuille. 

“Jamie, darling. How fortuitous. I have been looking for you all day. I was hoping we could have a dance but instead we can have a lovely cosy chat the two of us.” Geneva linked her arm through his, her hands caressing his back and arm as she did so and she attempted to maneuver him into a sitting room off the corridor. 

“I dinna think so, Geneva. Tis nice to see you, but I’m here with my girlfriend and I dinna think she would take kindly to be abandoning her”

“Oh her” Geneva waved her hand dismissively. “She’s in there drinking Minnie and Hal’s champagne and living her best life. She won’t miss you for a half an hour or so. I am so excited that you are joining Daddy’s team next season. It will be so much fun” As she said her eyes flicked over his face and body in a way that made explicit just what kind of fun she hoped they might have. 

“Aye, I’m looking forward to playing with yer father, He is a verra fine player.” He chose to deliberately ignore her come on. She took a step closer to him and he could feel the heat of her.

“Ah come on now Jamie. We’ve been stepping around each other long enough and we both know that your girlfriend won’t be around for long. Even if you don’t tire of her, she’ll get tired of you sooner or later. She’s not one of us and she doesn’t understand the life. End it quickly, join Helwater. We’ll make an unbeatable team” She was inches away from him now, stood in her tiptoes. He could feel her breath on his face and he took a step back. 

“I think this conversation is over” With that Jamie stepped around Geneva and stalked down the corridor. His face was on fire and he was both angry and upset. Angry that Geneva would disrespect Claire so badly and upset that in some respects she was right. Everything now was new and they were both revelling in their connectedness. But what happened when that novelty wore off? When she was at home in London whilst he travelled. When he had to cancel dates because horses were sick or injured, trucks were broken down, matches delayed. As he reentered the ballroom, he spotted Claire still dancing, now with Hal Grey of all people and he pushed these doubts aside. Claire was a woman with her own life and career. She would understand the challenges of his. Extracting her from Hal’s clutches he asked her if she was ready to leave. She nodded. 

“I just have to have a wee word wi’ Colum on the way out and then we’ll go. Go get your things and I’ll meet ye by the door.

Claire came back down the stairs with bag containing her things from earlier. The dress and hat left carefully on the bed in the spare room. She stood by the door admiring the portraits around the hall. There was a group of girls in the corner, lounging around on a large sofa, none of whom paid her the slightest bit of attention. As she moved to the other side of the door to look at a tapestry a voice rang out.

“Where were you earlier G? You went to the loo and were gone for aaages. You totally missed Maxima, who has had far too much to drink crying because Jamie Fraser brought that woman to Royal Ascot” There was some laughing at this and Claire felt minimally sorry for poor heartbroken Maxima, if only for the fact that she appeared to have singularly unsupportive friends.

“Ha, came another voice. Maxima has plenty to cry about, but let me tell you it’s not *her* that she’s lost out to. She’s as temporary as Maxie was. If you really want to know where I was, I was with Jamie. We were having a little catch up in the sitting room and let me tell you, whoever this girl is won’t be around come the Queen’s Cup. In fact she might now even be around this time tomorrow.” The voice was heavy with implication and there was a clamour of responses to this statement, mostly impressed requests for details.

Claire moved away. Her legs were shaking and so were her hands as she opened the door and stepped out into the cold night air. She was almost certain that Geneva had known that she was there and that her little performance was for her, but it still made her feel sick to the stomach to think about. She wanted to trust in Jamie, she did trust Jamie, she certainly didn’t think that his confessions at the Ridge were an act, but at the same time it made her realise again how little she knew about him. She had been coasting entirely on feelings and was letting that get the better of her. She’d let down her guard and it was foolish to do so. She needed to proceed with more caution and less reckless abandon. She needed to protect herself. 

Jamie appeared then. He had taken off his jacket and carried a suit bag and hat box.

“Why are you out here in the dark, Sassenach?” 

“Oh I just needed some fresh air.” She avoided his eyes and Jamie saw that straight away.

“Mo Nighean donn, talk to me, aye? Did I do something to upset you?”

Claire sighed. “Apart from apparently having a cosy old time of things with your good friend Geneva, who by the way is very much looking forward to you joining Daddy’s team. Apparently, I’ll be over by the Queen’s cup. If I even last that long.” Claire met his eyes now challenging him to respond. 

“Do ye really believe that of me Claire?” His voice was soft but she could hear the hurt in it, she sighed again. 

“No, no I don’t. Not really. It’s just… This, us. It’s so new, but it’s so all consuming. When it’s just me and you it’s easy to let myself to give in to that. But, then every single time we go anywhere I get clobbered by the “We love Jamie Fraser” Fan club which currently appears to be chaired by Geneva. I’d have to have the self confidence of a bull elephant to not let that hurt me, Jamie.”

“Aye, aye I understand. I know I shouldna subject you to it, but I also dinna want you to feel like I am hiding you away. I canna change who I was, but please know who I am. Right now. With you.” He sank down on the low wall, his head hanging. He looked up slowly. “It willna happen overnight, I canna get rid of spiteful bitches like Geneva, much as I might like to and I canna promise that she won’t continue to pull this shit for however long it takes for her to either get the message or move on to the next target. But know this Claire. I never thought that I would find what we have. I dinna even ken if I believed in it.” his accent became more pronounced as his distress became more apparent. “But then I met you. You literally appeared out of nowhere. And from that very second I wanted to be with you. From that very second I knew that I couldna be without you. If you need to slow down, that’s fine Claire we can do that, I would never pressure ye, I understand that ye need to protect yerself, but know this Claire, you are my everything.” His voice broke at the end and she could see the tears shining on his face in the light from the carriage lamps. She moved towards him just as the door opened and a group of people piled out. They looked with curiosity at the scene before them. Claire stood, Jamie head hanging sitting on the wall before they moved off murmuring to each other.

Once they were out of earshot, Claire closed the distance between them, crouching in front of him so that they were at eye level. “I’m sorry Jamie. I keep overreacting. I need to trust in us more. Trust our feelings. But thank you. Thank you for respecting me and what I need.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently and his arms came up around her pulling her onto his lap as her buried his face in her hair. 

“Well, Claire. I dinna ken what else they’ll be saying about you, but I reckon you might well be known as the lass that made Jamie Fraser cry” His voice was still shaky but she could hear the humour as well. 

“I am sorry Jamie” 

“I ken. And I understand. I trust you to my bones, but I’d still be lying if I said that I’d cope any better with people saying things about ye to me. Jesus, I wanted to murder Frank and I know he’s nothing” he pushed the hair back from her face and kissed her soundly before gently lifting her to her feet and standing. 

“I’ll take ye home then, aye?”

“Will you still stay?”

“Do ye want me to?” Se could feel the scrutiny of his eyes on her face, trying to read the truth of her. She lifted her eyes to his, giving him the full benefit of her glass face and inability to hide her emotions. 

“Its all I want.”


End file.
